Consequence of Alliance
by Phoenix1
Summary: Apollo's been avoiding Sheba since the events in the Hand of God. Will he be able to overcome his demons in time to rescue her when she is taken hostage by Baltar?
1. Consequence Of Alliance Chapter 1

Consequence Of Alliance  
-Chapter 1-

"You sent Sheba?"

The question was supposed to sound nonchalant, but Adama could hear the protective note in his son's voice. It wasn't unfamiliar, yet it took him a moment to realise the last time he'd heard it had been before the mission to the planet where they had found Count Iblis. Then, Apollo had questioned sending her along with Starbuck and himself, but in the days that followed, the Commander hadn't had time to wonder why.

Now, Adama knew that his son cared for Sheba. In what way he was not exactly sure, but it was most certainly there. In the very deepest, forbidden reaches of his soul, a place that Apollo couldn't, or possibly wouldn't, acknowledge existed; it was there.

He sighed inwardly. Ever since Serina died, tragically early in their marriage, Apollo had tortured himself continually with the thought that he might have been able to save her, were his reactions quicker. That she might still be alive, had he not married her. Barring Boxey, it seemed he had vowed to never, ever allow himself to be open to that kind of pain again and shut himself off to all emotions, good or bad. And then, Sheba had come, so suddenly, to be a part of his life and subtly, unwillingly, something had changed.

Privately, Adama wasn't surprised that Apollo had fallen for Cain's daughter. He had noticed the way his son had extended kindness to her when she had been ripped from her world on the Pegasus and deposited, injured, on the *Galactica*. After that, and the encounter with Iblis, they seemed to have developed some kind of emotional bond. Only, Apollo seemed reluctant to acknowledge it.

"Yes, Apollo, I did," he replied slowly. "Why?" 

Apollo shook his head and mumbled something incomprehensible, leaving Adama again lost in thought as he turned and left the bridge.

Almost immediately, Tigh advanced from the side, saying something about Baltar and the Council of Twelve, but the Commander wasn't listening, occupied by other thoughts.

His son had been on his mind a great deal over the last secton, as had many other things. He would almost certainly have the Council to contend with over his agreement to release Baltar, and the people of the Fleet weren't going to be all that happy about it either. The last thing he need was to be worrying about Apollo. 

It wasn't that he didn't care; he did. He just didn't have time to address his son's problems when the Fleet had so many of its own. He feared that the people might do something drastic when they found out about the traitor's impending liberation. In a way, Adama didn't blame them; to have to allow the instrument of their destruction to go free without a suitable punishment was eating him up inside. But he had promised, and Adama never broke his promises.

He felt Tigh's hand on his arm, gently shaking him out of his worries. "Adama?"

He started. "Yes?" 

"The Council wants to see you *right now,*" Tigh stressed. 

Adama looked confused. "Sorry, old friend. I was elsewhere."

The Colonel nodded sympathetically, and repeated his message. 

*~*

"You really think he'll let Baltar go?" Starbuck said, a disbelieving look on his handsome features, as he took a long draught from the mug of baharri in front of him, followed by a long drag from his fumarello.

Apollo remained silent, his green eyes vacant, not taking in anything around him, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the Officer's Club. He didn't want to be there, didn't want to be anywhere, except somewhere he could be alone. But his friend had bumped into him after he left the bridge and had literally dragged him to the club. 

Then again, he thought glumly as he caught a glimpse of a small group of warriors laughing loudly by the bar, the distraction wasn't entirely unwelcome.

Noticing his friend's lack of attention, Starbuck rolled his eyes and leaned across the table to jolt Apollo out of his thoughts. "Hey, buddy, you awake?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I. . ." Apollo paused. "What did you say?"

"Welcome back!" Starbuck grinned. "You know, I'm beginning to think I'd be better talking to myself! I said, do you think the Commander'll really let Baltar go?"

"I suppose so." Apollo sounded distant, as he gazed blankly into the drink that sat before him. "He said he would." 

Starbuck frowned slightly. "Apollo, is anything wrong? I mean, you seem kind of. . ." He searched for the right word. ". . .pre-occupied lately." 

He had noticed that Apollo had been distant, pretty much since they'd got back. After joining in the initial celebrations following the basestar's destruction, he had become increasingly quieter and more withdrawn. Starbuck wasn't sure why, but he strongly suspected that something had happened between him and Sheba in that Cylon Raider, only he knew better than to ask. The last time he had hinted that Apollo had an interest in her, he had almost exploded with rage, and that was something Starbuck was not overly eager to experience again. 

"No, I'm fine." Apollo sounded even further away than before.

Starbuck sighed and ordered another baharri.

*~*

Sheba adjusted her headset and checked the controls. Gazing out the shuttle window, she could see the ground crews moving away from the craft, their inspections finished. Her own checks were complete; everything seemed to be in correct, working order. They were ready. Any micron now. . .

"Transferring core control to shuttle Alpha, launch when ready," Omega's unfamiliar voice echoed through the earpiece.

Sheba nodded to her co-pilot, a warrior named Jonas, entered the course into the computer and launched the shuttle into the stars, towards the prison barge and Baltar.

*~*

When Adama reached the Council chambers, he found all the other members waiting for him. They sat tall and proud, serious expressions adorning their faces. As he walked to his chair at the head of the table, he couldn't help but notice the unspoken allegations in their eyes. What was wrong now?

He had barely sat down when the loud voice of Sire Domra boomed across the room. "We have been told, Adama, that you plan to release Baltar. Is that true?" he questioned, his tone taut and business-like, only a hint of the strain he was feeling showing on his face.

Adama had known they would find out eventually, was surprised, in fact, that it hadn't happened sooner, and knew they would react badly. It was to be expected really. Here was the greatest traitor humanity had ever known, finally being punished for his crimes, and now he was going to be freed. At least if Adama got his way.

During the attack on the Cylon base star, the Council had not become involved, nor asked any questions, when he had told them of the impending battle. They had no choice. If they did not attack, utilising the small advantage they had, then they would surely be destroyed. As Tigh had said, there was no other way. They could not turn back and they could not get around it- they had to fight. 

He looked up at the accusing faces seated round the room: Sires Domra, Antipas, Montrose, and Geller. Councillors Anton, Leto and Ulysses. Siresses Tinia, Octavia and Lenara. They glared at him, waiting for his answer. Slowly he nodded and sighed, "Yes, I am."

The moment he spoke, angry voices erupted around the room. 

"Adama, you can't possibly-"

"Are you insane?!"

"What's possessed you?!"

"Please, everyone, calm down!" Adama shouted. "There *is* a reasonable explanation!"

"Well, we'd certainly like to hear it!" Tinia called, rising slightly from her chair. "You are talking about releasing *Baltar*. The person responsible for the annihilation of the Colonies. The person who, less than four sectars ago, took this Council hostage in a bid to gain his freedom. The person who allied himself with the Cylons and," she added, "if we hadn't captured him, could very well have been in command of the base ship we destroyed only a few days ago. What possible explanation could there be?"

"Without him, we might never have defeated that base ship," Adama said quietly.

"What are you talking about?" Montrose spoke up.

"Baltar gave us technical information about the base star in exchange for his freedom. Without it, Apollo and Starbuck might not have even found the control room. They couldn't have destroyed it and we might all be dead," he replied calmly.

The Council sat in silence, stunned at the knowledge of the alliance between the two nemeses. 

"Adama. . . why?" the elderly Councillor Anton finally managed to ask.

"I had no choice, Anton. The skill of our Warriors precedes any I have ever known but, still, they're only human. We had to make sure we got the first strike; it was the only way," the Commander replied. "What would you have had me do? Let Apollo and Starbuck fly into that base ship with no knowledge of where they were going? What they had to find?" He shook his head defiantly. "I would not do that. Even if it meant I had to bargain with Baltar; even if it meant I had to free him."

"Yes, Adama, but what of the people? How will they react when they find out that the reason for their desperate voyage across the stars is to be released? Allowed to walk free, after the crimes he has committed."

"*Hopefully,*" he stressed, "they will not find out."

"We will not have to worry about that, Adama," Antipas said. "He will not be freed."

The other Council members nodded and murmured in agreement as Adama glared at the man, knowing full well where the conversation was heading. "What do you mean?"

"As you pointed out, Baltar provided us with invaluable technological data; he could again. The bottom line is that we cannot afford to let him go. What if we find ourselves in a similar position, in need of his knowledge again? Where would he be? Stuck on a planet in the middle of nowhere, for he surely couldn't be let loose among the people of the fleet. What then, Adama?" 

"Sire Antipas, the only reason Baltar offered his knowledge was in exchange for freedom. If we don't give it to him, who knows what he'll do? He certainly won't offer it again. Who would, after being tricked like that?"

"You did not answer the question, Adama," Octavia's voice rang out.

"Oh yes I did, Octavia. No matter what you do or say, Baltar will not give us any more information. *Can't you understand that?!*" he shouted. What was wrong with these people? Why couldn't they understand?

"We shall see, Adama," Antipas said coolly. "We shall see."

*~*

"You know, I'd have thought the Commander would have sent his son on this mission," Jonas broke the uneasy silence of the journey. He had not had much to do with the daughter of the legendary Cain, and was unsure of how to pursue a conversation. Truth be told, he was slightly intimidated by her and her status as a warrior. She was one of the elite, a member of Blue Squadron, while he wasn't even cleared to fly a viper, only elevating from his status in Colonial security two days ago. 

Sheba noticeably flinched at the mention of Apollo. It was obvious he'd been avoiding her since he got back, and that hurt. So much so that she had miserably accepted this mission in an attempt to distance herself from the *Galactica* and anything concerning the dark-haired captain. 

She didn't understand why he couldn't just tell her the truth and put her out of her misery, instead of hurting her like this. She deserved that, at least. 

Frustrated and upset, she quickly turned away from Jonas, pretending to adjust some controls, before he could see the tears in her eyes.

"I mean, he's the one that usually goes on all these high-risk missions," the co-pilot joked. Was Sheba ignoring him? He hoped not. She might not know him very well, but that was no reason not to be civil, at the very least. He chuckled slightly, shaking his head. "There's always high stakes on whether he's gonna make it back or not."

She whirled round in her chair, eyes flashing, her whole body seething with anger. "What?!"

He didn't answer, frightened by the rage in her eyes. What in the name of Kobol was her problem? What had he said? He started to reply, but it came out in a stutter.

Sheba glared at him, struggled to control herself and turned back to the side, leaving Jonas, open-mouthed, gazing at her back, still unable to speak. His ill-timed mention of Apollo made her thoughts jump unwillingly back to the conversation she had had with him on the Cylon raider, before he and Starbuck had rushed off to disable the base star's scanners. 

He had sensed what she wanted before she had even begun to speak, expected it even, and told her firmly that there was no way she was coming with them. What he couldn't in any way have expected was an accusation of a death wish and suddenly learning how she really felt about him; how she had felt for quite some time. 

Looking back, she deeply regretted throwing Serina at him. That hadn't been fair. What did she know about it? She wasn't there; she couldn't know. She might have gone to the trouble of finding out about it, but that was no excuse. 

It was all such a mess. Apollo had obviously been angry and hurt and that was the last thing she wanted. In fact, it was probably one of any number of reasons he had chosen to avoid her. 

She sighed. Now that he knew exactly how she felt, it seemed he didn't care one bit. Jamming her fists into her eyes to stop the tears from flowing, she turned back to the controls. 

*Damn you, Apollo,* she thought as the prison barge came into view. *Damn you.*

*~*

Baltar paced repeatedly up and down the tiny holding cell, muttering to himself. He longed to escape his Colonial prison, to walk freely where and when he chose. To do as he alone desired and to be, once again, a part of the race known as man; the race he had betrayed.

But that could never be- Adama would see to that. Would make sure. . .

Oh yes, he would soon get out of this detestable cage, but to where? A desolate, barely-habitable rock in the furthest reaches of the galaxy where he would rot until maybe, just maybe, a Cylon patrol would find and rescue him?

"No!" he snarled, it would not happen like that. He wouldn't allow it. Baltar could not, would not, be treated like that. He had commanded base ships. Conquered worlds. And yet had been unable to completely wipe out the last vestiges of mankind and achieve the glory he desired; the glory he deserved. For that he would make sure they all perished. For that he would make Adama pay.

His mind, driven to the point of insanity by his isolation, unfulfilled obsessions, dangerous desires and helpless, unchannelled frustration, was already hatching a plot to return to his former allies in triumph, with a crushed and defeated Adama by his side and, eventually, the *Galactica* and her fleet as his prisoners.

He fingered the sharp blade he had accumulated last night from the prison barge's mess hall. True, it was only a large shard of glass, but it would serve his purpose, at least until he found something more substantial. 

Soon. . .

The echo of footsteps interrupted his raving thoughts as a Colonial Warrior marched down the dim corridor towards his lonely cell. He quickly concealed the shard on his person, as the man advanced to his door.

"Hello there, Baltar. Commander Adama would like a word with you," Jonas said. 

"Well, it's about time, I must say," he smiled. "He's kept me waiting for almost a secton, you know."

Baltar sized the man up as he spoke. Tallish, strong build, but inexperienced in the field of the Warrior. The overbearing disposition and swagger were indicating someone who was far, far too sure of himself. He would be easily overcome. The first victim of what was to come. 

Fingering the shard in his pocket, he followed Jonas in the direction of the waiting shuttle. . .


	2. Consequence Of Alliance Chapter 2

Consequence Of Alliance  
-Chapter 2-

Apollo relaxed on his back, gazing up at the stars and the vast expanse of space from the solitude of the celestial chamber. It was where he always went to think; his special, private place. Or at least it had been until one night, just under a secton ago, when he'd revealed its existence to Starbuck, Cassiopeia and Sheba. A small part of him felt remorse in sharing his secret place, but in light of the discovery they had made, he found he couldn't fully regret it. Besides, the expressions on their faces had been more than worth it. Especially Sheba. . .

Sheba. He knew he had been avoiding her since he got back, had tried not to think about her even. He couldn't deny it. But he just didn't know what to say when he saw her; how to tell her something he had tried for so long not to admit to himself, let alone anyone else. That was what he had been agonising over continually since he got back.

He let out an exasperated sigh. Why was it so difficult? Why couldn't he just look her in the eye and tell her he loved her. She had found the courage to say how she felt, so what was stopping him?

But he knew the answer.

The pain he had experienced when he lost Serina was something that he never, ever wanted to go through again. Not for anything or anyone. The thought of loving someone like that again scared him more than he cared to admit. Not to mention the fact that he had Boxey's feelings to consider.

Apollo shook his head angrily. He couldn't hide behind a little boy; couldn't hide behind anyone. She wouldn't accept that. Lords, he didn't even accept it. He wished someone could help him but there was no way he could tell anyone. Not Starbuck, not Athena, not even his father; he had to sort this one out by himself, however hard it was. 

He sighed. Now that he was finally confessing to himself exactly how much he cared for her, he was realising, more and more, that he had loved Sheba for a very long time, and at the same time, had tried his best not to. Something inside him was terrified that if he admitted to caring for her at all, he would lose her as quickly as he had Serina. 

He suddenly wished, wholeheartedly, that she were standing in front of him, even if only for a moment, so he could gaze into her dark brown eyes, and let her know what was really in his heart; what he was frightened to say out loud. 

Apollo rose suddenly. 

Frightened. 

Scared. 

Terrified. 

He was becoming the one thing he detested most, save the Cylons. He refused to be a coward of any kind. He had avoided his feelings for far too long. It ended here. Life, as he had learned, was far too short. When Sheba returned from the prison barge, he would be waiting. . .

*~*

Starbuck trudged despondently along the corridor in the direction of the Life Station. Since he had left Apollo, he had been unable to think about anything other than his friend's unexplained onset of depression. 

He had seen Apollo like this before, if he was angry or upset about something, but never after any kind of victory and never for any great length of time, save the period following Serina's death. 

This was different. 

As far as he could see, there was nothing apparent for his friend to be upset about, and that was what was bothering him. He needed someone else's opinion, someone that had experience with other people's thoughts and feelings. 

He needed Cassiopeia.

*~*

When he entered the Life Station, Cassiopeia was tending to a patient, one of the casualties of the battle. He wasn't seriously hurt, just a few burns, but had been kept in for observation.

She looked up and smiled warmly as she saw Starbuck coming towards her. "Hi."

"Hey." He grinned back at her, his black mood lifting slightly at seeing her, as she finished with the patient. "You okay to talk?"

Cassi nodded and ushered him into a separate, unoccupied section of the Life Station. Most of the time, Starbuck was quite good at covering up his feelings, but this time, the look on his face told her immediately that something wasn't right. 

A centon passed with Starbuck fidgeting, looking at the floor, unsure of how to begin.

"Starbuck, what's wrong?" she asked, seeing his difficulty.

He looked up at her and gave a wry smile. "That's what I was hoping you could tell me."

"What do you mean?" Cassiopeia looked puzzled. "Are you sick?"

He shook his head. "It's Apollo. He's. . . Lords, I don't know. Since we got back, it's like he's not been here. I'm worried about him, Cass. I thought he'd get over what was bothering him, but he's still withdrawn, distant, like his mind's somewhere else."

"Do you know why?" 

He looked uncomfortable. "I, uh. . . I. . . I think it has something to do with. . . Sheba. I think something happened between them on that Raider, you know, after we left."

She nodded. "I think you're right. Something Sheba said as we watched you launch. I-"

"She's in love with him?"

Cassiopeia smiled slightly. "I think so." She paused, a pensive, questioning look coming over her face. "Does he love her?"

Starbuck looked wistful. "Yeah. I don't know if he knows it or not, but he does. Has for a long time. I just hope when the right moment comes, he can admit it to himself." He sighed. "And her."

*~*

Baltar ran along the twisting corridors, laser at the ready. He should be near the landing bay by now, he was certain. This was the way he had gone the last time; the last time, when he had been so near to escape, so close. He had the Council members as hostages, he had *Adama* as a hostage, and yet he had still failed. Apollo and Starbuck had seen to that. 

He smiled. This time would be different, though. This time Apollo and Starbuck would not stop him; this time they weren't here. Instead, as he had learned from the guard, Adama had sent two others. A mistake that would be fatal for so many people, he'd make sure of it. 

He slowed to a walk as he heard the chatter of conversation nearby. Ducking to the side, he waited until they rounded the corner, and fired. The four members of the ground crew fell. It was too easy. For a prison ship, security outwith the cell area was extremely lax. On his journey to the landing bay he had seen no one until now.

The traitor looked cautiously around the corner from his place in the shadows to find he had reached the bay. It was completely deserted save the shuttle and the pilot he knew would be inside. He would have to act quickly if he was to succeed. Someone was bound to find Jonas's body soon, despite his efforts to hide it, and Baltar's absence would, of course, be noticed. 

He crept towards the safety of the shuttle's open door. Once he was inside he would be fine. As well as the ship, he'd have a hostage and Adama, he knew, would do nothing to jeopardise her life. That was where he had made his mistake the last time; taking too many hostages. This time would be different. He *would* succeed.

Baltar checked his laser. It only had enough power left for a single shot. He would have to make it count. He set it to heavy stun and quietly made his way down the shuttle's dim corridor.

*~*

"We are all agreed, then?" the young Sire asked coolly.

The murmurs around the council chambers were in agreement save for the uncomfortable silences of Siress Tinia and Councillor Anton. Both were friendly with Adama and, while they still weren't sure of his alliance with Baltar, they didn't agree with Antipas's drastic suggestion.

"Councillor Anton? Siress Tinia?" he asked, a slight edge of impatience coming to his voice. He was so close. . .

"I must admit, I'm having trouble with this," Tinia volunteered. "It seems a little. . ."

"Drastic," Anton finished.

"It is necessary," Antipas replied flatly. They would *not* stop him now, not when it was in his grasp. "He must be made an example of."

"I fail to see just how this would accomplish that," Tinia protested. There was a quality to this young council member she disliked. She wasn't sure if it was the way he was so arrogantly trying to push them to favouring his decision or whether it was something she sensed beneath his polished exterior, but it was beginning to gnaw at her with each word that passed his lips.

"Siress Tinia, is it possible your involvement with Adama during the last fiasco surrounding Baltar has coloured your thoughts? Only this morning, you vehemently defended our position and yet now you seem to disagree with the appropriate course of action."

Tinia was mortified. Yes, she like Adama, respected his command ability, but to suggest. . . And in front of such an audience! Thankfully, Anton intervened.

"We still do not know all the details surrounding this 'fiasco,' Sire," the Councillor interjected. "And may I remind you of what Adama said? If he had not taken such action, we might well be dead."

Antipas scowled, a mere narrowing of his eyes unnoticed by most. This old councillor would not get the better of him. "Adama made us think that the base star could not easily have been avoided; he was wrong. Instead, Adama used the Great Traitor for nothing more than to gain his own personal glory!"

"I will not believe that," Tinia said coldly, and then turning to the other council members, "And if you do, then you're fools, the whole lot of you."

Sire Montrose rose angrily, his pride wounded. "Now, look here, Tinia," he bellowed.

"Members of the Council," Antipas interrupted, rapping a convenient gavel. "There is no need to discuss this any further. The vote has already been taken and, at a nine to two majority, it would seem that I win."

Anton and Tinia watched in horror as the other members of the Council of Twelve nodded in agreement, glad that they had a strong leader to take actions on their smallest concerns. 

*~*

Sheba checked her timepiece for what seemed like the fifteenth time in as many centons. Where the frack was Jonas? He was certainly taking his time, the little snitrad. He-

The quiet thud of careful footsteps reached her ears, interrupting her impatience. She turned, expecting to see the swaggering Warrior coming up behind her, probably expecting an apology for her earlier behaviour, but instead the face of Baltar leered back at her. 

Shocked, her eyes immediately flicked to the laser aimed at her; to the traitor's finger flexing on the trigger, and, in a split-micron movement, brought her arm up and sent the shot wide, as her other hand went to her holster, clawing for her own weapon. 

Baltar retaliated instantly by bringing the pistol down hard on her head. Stunned, she fell back, unable to react when he shoved her violently to the side. Her head struck the metal of the wall and she slumped, unconscious, to the floor.

*~*

Apollo strode down the corridor, his pace quickening with every step until he was almost running. He was going so quickly he didn't see Starbuck rounding the corner from the Life Station and ran right into him. 

"Hey!" Starbuck protested. "Watch it, buddy, you'll wind up hurting someone." Then he saw the panic in his friend's eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Sheba," he said breathlessly, for once not caring what conclusions his friend jumped to. "She's not back yet. She's over a centar late. She-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Starbuck replied, putting a restraining hand on Apollo's shoulder. "What are you talking about?"

"Sheba went to the prison barge to get Baltar and she's not back yet!" Apollo practically shouted. He couldn't explain it, not logically anyway, but he knew that she was in danger. He knew something was wrong.

"Okay, how late is she? Only a centar?" he questioned, unsure of why Apollo was worried. 

Apollo checked his timepiece and nodded.

"Then there's probably some problem with the shuttle. There's nothing to worry about." Starbuck was doing his best to calm his friend down, but it obviously wasn't working. He had never seen Apollo so panicked, not even during any kind of Cylon attack; he was usually the calm one of the pair, the unexcitable one. "What else could it possibly be?"

Apollo didn't like to think. As he looked at Starbuck, he could see only confusion in his friend's blue eyes. He couldn't see what Apollo saw, what the Captain had worried about as he had counted the centons in the *Galactica's* Alpha landing bay, waiting for Sheba to return. 

"Baltar," he finally whispered.

"You can't be thinking. . ." Starbuck trailed off, shaking his head, a look of total and utter disbelief on his face. "Nah, it doesn't make any sense. We're setting him free, for Kobol's sake. He wouldn't-"

"Wouldn't he? He sold out his own race, joined forces with the Cylons and hunted us down at every opportunity; who knows what goes on his head?" Apollo spluttered, cutting him off. 

"But still. . ." The lieutenant replied incredulously. 

"I'm going to the bridge. Maybe they know something," Apollo said hopefully, interrupting him for the second time, and took off before his friend had a chance to reply.

"Oh, Lords!" Starbuck muttered under his breath before he hurried down the corridor after Apollo. 

*~*

"Father?"

Adama looked up to see Athena standing over him, a worried expression on her delicate features. Since their victory over the Cylon base ship, he had given his Warriors a well-deserved furlon, keeping only one squadron and a few bridge crew members on duty at a time. Only Athena, Omega and a couple of others he was not familiar with were on duty with him at the moment, although Tigh and Mullahan were set to relieve them within the centar.

"Yes, Athena?" Adama answered. He had said little since his return from his meeting with the Council that morning, preferring to gaze at the starfield through the bridge's viewscreen, undisturbed, and deep in thought. He had not told her the details of the disastrous conference then, and he didn't particularly feel like discussing it now.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Over the past few days, Athena had tried everything she could think of to get her father to take a proper break and relax as he had ordered his Warriors to, but Adama had only left the bridge to eat and sleep, save the meeting he had attended that morning. He appeared to be worrying about something and she was certain it wasn't just Baltar's impending release. "Is anything wrong?"

Adama couldn't help but smile. Both his children were protective, but when Athena asked about him, she always sounded just like his beloved Ila used to. Ila also wouldn't leave him alone until he told her what was bothering him, and Athena was the same. He sighed. "The Council found out about my plan to release Baltar. They're not happy."

Her eyes widened with concern. "What are they going to do?"

"I don't know," he said softly, shaking his head. "They're convinced he can provide us with more tactical information about the Cylons. Of course he could, but the simple fact is that he won't. We have nothing to offer him in return. He bargained once, and his price was freedom. A price which hasn't even been paid, and won't be, if the Council get their way." He looked up at her, his brown eyes filled with determination. "I don't break my promises, Athena. I have to free him. No matter how much I dislike having to do it"

She was about to reply when Apollo burst onto the bridge, followed hastily by Starbuck. 

"Apollo, Starbuck. What-" Adama began.

"The shuttle to the prison barge; it's not back yet," Apollo cut him off sharply. He was desperately trying to stay calm, but alarms screamed at the back of his mind; Sheba was in danger. "They're at least a centar overdue!"

Before Adama could respond, Athena's console beeped, announcing an incoming transmission. 

He heard him before he saw him. The putrid, mocking voice of Baltar filled his ears as the traitor's image leered onto the screen. 

"Hello, Adama!"


	3. Consequence Of Alliance Chapter 3

Consequence Of Alliance  
-Chapter 3-

"Baltar!" 

The traitor smiled, his round face radiating smugness. "I see you haven't forgotten me after all, Adama. That was the impression I was getting. I thought I'd be speaking with you long before this."

"I-"

"That was, of course, if you ever intended to free me in the first place," Baltar cut the commander off sharply, hatred smouldering in his dark eyes.

"Of course I did!" Adama replied angrily. He always kept his word! How dare the traitor accuse him of that!

"But you haven't," he stated, feigning hurt before he smiled. "So I've had to take matters into my own hands."

"Where's Sheba?" Apollo demanded angrily, suddenly stepping forward in front of his father, into view of the traitor. If that bastard had hurt her. . .

Ignoring him, Baltar turned his head slightly to the side to look at Adama again. "Did you *really* think I wouldn't figure out what you were up to? What you and the Council had been plotting against me? What you intended to do to me?"

"Baltar, I don't know what you're talking about! I sent two warriors to collect you. They were to bring you aboard the *Galactica*-" Adama began, his voice raised slightly, showing he was upset.

"For my execution!" the traitor shouted, shocking the commander into silence.

For a centon, nobody spoke, unsure of how Adama was going to react. Finally, Apollo could take it no longer. "I said, 'where's Sheba?'" he demanded again, shouting this time. 

Starbuck put a cautionary hand on his friend's shoulder, holding him back. He hadn't seen Apollo this angry since Count Iblis had been on board, and even then, he'd managed to control it a lot better. Athena suddenly caught his eye. She looked shocked and frightened, but it was more for her brother than anyone else. She motioned for him to keep a tight hold on Apollo, unsure of what he might do.

Baltar finally looked to Adama's son, an amused expression on his full features. "Temper, temper, Apollo. You'll hurt yourself," he mocked. Was it possible that his hated rival's normally stoic son was rather fond of his hostage?

Starbuck hauled his friend back before he struck the screen. "Apollo! Calm down!" he whispered frantically, not wanting Baltar to hear. "Calm down! It won't do her any good." Starbuck was angry too, but he wouldn't show it; he couldn't give the traitor the satisfaction.

"Look, Baltar, what exactly is it you want?" Adama said coldly, stepping in front of his son and blocking him from view. His guess about Apollo's feelings towards Sheba had been absolutely correct, and with his son almost beside himself with rage he had to change the subject, before Apollo got any angrier, difficult as that may seem.

The traitor smiled again. "Simple, Adama. I want you."

The white-haired commander was at a loss for words. He knew Baltar hated him with a vengeance, knew how he enjoyed taunting him, but never in a thousand yahren had he thought that the two enemies' inevitable final confrontation would be something like this. 

Seeing his shock, Baltar continued amiably: "I'm willing to make a deal." He paused. "You, in exchange for Lieutenant. . ." he looked briefly at Apollo, who was in view again, ". . .Sheba. You have one centar to give me an answer. After that. . ." He moved to the side displaying the unconscious Sheba on the shuttle's floor, ". . .she dies." With that, the screen went dead.

Starbuck looked towards Apollo, who was standing shaking with rage, staring at the spot on the screen where, only moments before, he'd seen the woman he obviously loved unconscious at the mercy of the greatest traitor humanity had ever known. Without warning, he turned and stormed off the bridge, barely able to control his anger. Starbuck went to follow him but Athena held him back. 

"Let me go," she said softly and went off after her brother.

*~*

The first thing Sheba was aware of was a sharp, throbbing pain in her left temple as she struggled to open her eyes. Dimly, she could make out voices, familiar voices, talking in the background, but the sudden taste of blood in her mouth diverted her attention. She tried to wipe it away but found she hadn't the strength to raise her hand. Abandoning movement, she concentrated on the voices. At first, she couldn't make out what they were saying, but, as she listened, she recognised first Adama, then Baltar.

Hearing Baltar, the realisation that something had happened to her struck Sheba with a cold rush of fear. She had been waiting in the shuttle, that much she remembered clearly. Baltar had appeared and tried to fire at her but she had sent the shot wide somehow. She had went for her own weapon. . . and then what? Whatever had happened she had been knocked unconscious, that much was obvious, but she was at a total loss as to why Baltar had attacked her. Her head ached as she tried to work it out. He was to be freed, wasn't he? He knew that, didn't he? The answer to both was yes; it just didn't make sense.

Suddenly, Sheba recognised Apollo's voice. She still couldn't quite make out the words, but she could tell instantly that he was angry. Very angry. She tried to call his name, to let him know she was there but, if she managed, no one heard her.

After the murmur of others, Apollo's voice, shouting this time, again reached her ears, loud enough now to let her make out every word as clearly as if he had been standing right next to her:

"I said, 'where's Sheba?'"

She couldn't hear the reply, if there was one. The only thing she was able to focus on was the anger in Apollo's voice. She realised then she'd been wrong. How could she have ever thought he didn't care? It was there in his voice for all to hear, and yet, somehow, she had not. Instead of listening and waiting patiently, she had stormed off angrily in a shuttle and left him behind, regardless of whether she had a mission or not. Now she was paying the price for it. If she'd only made the most of her R & R like the rest of the pilots, she wouldn't be in this mess.

Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the sensation of two cold fingers at her throat, probing for a pulse. Sheba realised then that she could no longer hear the voices and once again struggled to open her eyes.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant." 

The sight of Baltar standing over her made her wish she hadn't bothered.

*~*

Apollo walked from the bridge as if in a daze, hardly believing what he had just witnessed. The image of Sheba, blood streaming from a cut in her head, unconscious at the mercy of Baltar, stabbed painfully at his heart. He rested his head on the cool metal of the corridor wall, and steadied himself with his left hand. His right fist hit the wall as his anger exploded. It wasn't fair! Once again he was faced with losing a woman he loved, and, again, he was powerless to stop it. 

He squeezed his eyes shut to block it out, but the image still haunted him, dancing in the shadows of his mind, as others did... 

He frowned. What was it Sheba had said? '"Did you ever think about the fact that maybe two people who snap at each other for no reason, are doing it to avoid their real feelings?"' She had told him she'd thought about it "quite a bit", and the truth he would have to tell her, if he ever got the chance, was that, even though he had tried not to, so had he. At least since their confrontation in that Raider.

If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the gentle touch of her lips on his; her plead with him to be careful. Thinking about it, it was probably that moment, after Sheba left, that he had realised just how much he cared about her, and yet, he had done his best not to think about her, not even acknowledged her, in the time since he had returned. Until now, when it seemed likely that he might never see her again. Alive, anyway. It was so unfair. What had he done to deserve losing another woman who was special to him? And Sheba. What had she done?

"Apollo!"

He looked up to see Athena jogging towards him. He turned away from his sister and continued walking. He didn't want to talk to her; didn't want to talk to anyone. All he wanted was to be left alone.

"Apollo, wait!" Why wouldn't he stop? Athena increased her gait to a run and grabbed his arm, pulling him to face her with a strength that surprised even herself. "Wait!" 

Apollo's expression was dark; his face clouded with worry and fear. He avoided her eyes. "What is it you want, Athena?"

"Where are you going?" she asked, even though she was certain she already knew.

Apollo didn't reply. He hadn't been sure himself until she'd asked, but now he knew he had no choice, knew what he had to do. He owed it to her. He began to turn away again but his sister held him back.

"Apollo," she began, sensing what his line of thinking was. "It's not your fault."

"Isn't it?" he snapped angrily, meeting her gaze for the first time. She didn't know what she was talking about. She couldn't know. If he'd only-

"How could you possibly be to blame?" his sister said incredulously, beginning to get angry. "How?"

"Because if I hadn't spent the last few days ignoring her, she wouldn't have gone!" Apollo shouted.

"But-" Athena didn't understand.

Apollo sighed and looked to the floor again, unable to meet her eyes. "Before I left to infiltrate that base star, Sheba. . . confronted me and she said that. . . she. . . well, she. . ."

Seeing how difficult this was for him to tell, even his sister, Athena gently laid her hand on her brother's arm. "It's all right, Apollo, I understand. You care about her, and she cares about you. It's nothing to be ashamed of." She paused, watching his reaction. 

"You're not going to hurt anyone by admitting it," she added softly, when he didn't answer. 

"Athena," he said quietly, "if you truly understand, then you already know where I'm going, and you're not going to try and stop me."

She shook her head. "No," she said softly. "I'm not." Athena turned and started to make her way back to the bridge, but, as she neared the corner, she turned back. "Good luck, Apollo, and be careful."

Something in Apollo's eyes seemed to spark at those words. He smiled his thanks and continued resolutely on towards the launch bay.

*~*

Adama stepped back from the console and sat down heavily in his chair, his hand covering his eyes as he shook his head in disbelief. This could not be happening.

The silence on the bridge seemed to last an eternity. No one spoke, no one moved, all numb with shock at what they had just seen. Finally, Starbuck could take no more. He couldn't stand by and do nothing; it just wasn't his style, not when one of his friends was in trouble. He cleared his throat, ready to speak, ready to ask just what the Commander intended to do.

"I don't know, Starbuck," Adama said softly, anticipating his question. "I don't know."

"Well, we can't just sit here and do nothing," Starbuck said angrily. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard the Commander sound so defeated. He was about to add something else when he saw Athena approaching from the side.

He started towards her with Adama following, anxious to know about his friend.

"Apollo?" her father asked, fearing the worse.

She looked uncomfortable. "He, uh. . . he just. . . wants to be left alone for a little while.

One look at Athena's eyes told Starbuck exactly where Apollo was going. He had to help him. "Uh, Commander? I think I might go and, uh. . . see if he's alright. Better not to leave him alone at a time like this." It was a lame excuse, an obvious fake. He had no doubt Adama would see right through it. The question was, would he let him go?

Adama, too, had seen what was in his daughter's eyes, and, indeed, what was in his son's eyes when he had left earlier; he knew what Apollo, and now Starbuck, was going to do. He smiled knowingly. Had he really expected anything less? Nodding, he gripped Starbuck's arm as he had before the base star mission. "See you soon, Starbuck."

The lieutenant grinned and made his way off the bridge, slightly uneasy at the symbolism of Adama's gesture. 

*~*

It had only been half a centar since Starbuck had left the Life Station and already Cassiopeia missed him. He was supposed to have taken a furlon along with everyone else, but with Apollo volunteering to stay on duty, Starbuck had too, spoiling their chance of spending some more time together. His loyalty and concern for his friends was one thing that Cassi had, in many a conversation, admitted to admiring about the brash lieutenant, but she secretly wished that Apollo- and yes, Sheba too- would sort themselves out, so she and Starbuck could have some well-deserved time to themselves.

Her shift had been over for at least ten centons, but after a battle she could never seem to tear herself away from her patients, especially if they were people she knew, and liked. She yawned, realising as she caught a glimpse of the chronometer on the wall, that as the light cycle had begun, and with her work done, she was well within her rights to go back to her quarters and have a good, long sleep. Even so. . .

Dr. Salik caught her look and smiled as he looked up from the pad he was holding. "You know, you are allowed some time off, Cassiopeia. You've been on duty for 15 centars, it's about time you took a break."

She smiled back. "Are you sure?" 

"I don't want to see you back here for at least five cycles," he stated bluntly. "Everyone else is enjoying a furlon, so why can't you?"

"Not everyone," Cassiopeia frowned, thinking of both Starbuck and Apollo. Not to mention Sheba. 

Salik nodded, agreeing, as his expression turned grim. "No, not everyone, I suppose," he admitted. Salik did like the Commander's son, admired his bravery and skill as a Warrior, but since that fateful night when he had been unable to save his wife Serina, he had formed a sympathy for Apollo. A sympathy that had deepened with observing his tentative interest in the recovery of Lt. Sheba, after the disappearance of the Pegasus and further still during the Cylon suicide runs on the *Galactica*, an episode which almost cost Apollo his entire family. 

From what he'd accidentally overheard of Starbuck and Cassiopeia's earlier conversation, his original hunch had been correct, and now, for some reason Salik couldn't be sure of, Apollo had denied a furlon, and done his best to avoid Sheba at all costs. Even at the awards ceremony the other night, where, when he'd looked to congratulate the Captain after the presentation of the Gold Cluster, he was nowhere to be found. That would certainly explain the miserable expression that had lined Sheba's face throughout the ceremony.

"I'm sure Starbuck will be able to persuade Captain Apollo to join in the festivities," Salik said, trying to cheer her.

Cassi looked surprised that the Doctor had known whom she was referring to, and gave him a questioning look.

"Come now, Cassiopeia," Salik said, smiling again. "Even working in the Life Station most of the time, there are very few things that don't catch my eye. Now, go. I'm keeping you from your furlon."

"Only if you promise to take some time off yourself," she replied.

His eyes twinkled as he watched her move towards the door. "I'll make sure to."

Smiling at him one last time, Cassiopeia walked out of the Life Station and straight into Starbuck.

"Starbuck!" she gasped. "What-?"

"Sorry, Cass," he exclaimed as he spun her round, out of his way. "Can't stop!"

"Starbuck, wait!" she shouted, pulling him back. "What's going on? What's happened?"

"I don't have time-" He had to get to Apollo before it was too late.

"Please!" she begged. The desperate tone in his voice set off alarms in her mind. Something was very wrong.

Starbuck looked torn. He was breathing heavily from his hurry, anxious to be off again, but wanting to tell her everything. He looked at her, then in the direction he was heading and then back to her again. 

"Sheba," he said breathlessly. "She's in trouble. Baltar's escaped. Apollo's gone and I have to help him."

He was barely making sense but the urgency in his voice and in his stance, almost as if he was ready to take off again, compelled her to keep holding him back. She knew what she had to do.

"Wait for me, I'll be back in a micron!" Cassi dashed back into the Life Station and emerged moments later with a medkit. "You can tell me on the way," she declared to the surprised Starbuck as she quickly checked the medkit's contents.

Starbuck didn't have time to argue. Instead, he sped off again, this time with Cassiopeia in tow.

*~*

To Apollo's relief, the launch bay was completely deserted when he arrived. Thanking the Lords, he made his way towards the lone shuttle at the bay's end, his feet making no sound as he jogged across the tarmac. He paused at its door and looked back as he heard the sound of the ascensior descending behind him. Before he could make a move, a determined Starbuck trailed by an anxious Cassiopeia jumped off and cornered him. 

Apollo's expression was tight-lipped. "What are you two doing here?"

"We're coming with you," Starbuck said bluntly. 

Apollo started to protest but Cassiopeia cut him off sharply. "Your father gave us clearance, Apollo. We're coming and that's that. Besides," she paused, not really wanting to hit him with this. "You might need a medtech."

As much as they hurt him, Apollo could see the wisdom in her words and it wasn't like he had time to debate the issue. "All right," he said reluctantly. "Let's go."


	4. Consequence Of Alliance Chapter 4

Consequence Of Alliance  
-Chapter 4-

Almost as soon as Starbuck left, Tigh had returned for his second stint of duty, determined to convince Adama to follow the orders he himself had issued and take his own well-deserved furlon. When he saw the look on the Commander's face, though, he knew there was no hope. Whatever had happened, it was serious, that much was obvious. More than that, it was personal.

"Adama?" Tigh addressed his friend, making sure to get his attention. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

He didn't reply.

"Adama?"

"Tigh," the Commander asked wearily, an almost distracted air to his voice. "Do you think I made a mistake making an alliance with Baltar?" 

The executive officer was surprised by the question. What had that to do with anything? Unless. . . 

"Father?" Athena's voice, a mixture of emotions, called out suddenly. "The shuttle."

Adama moved towards his daughter's console anxious for news on Apollo's progress. He prayed to the Lords of Kobol and to God himself for Sheba's safe return from the peril he had unconsciously placed her in. He didn't think Apollo would be able to cope if he lost her too. Lost her to a madman at the fault of his own father. He couldn't let it happen. He *wouldn't* let it happen. 

Adama watched the shuttle as it headed steadily towards the prison barge. It wouldn't be long before he had to contact Baltar and give him his decision. In his mind, there was only one option.

"Omega, I want a Viper prepared for launch. Have it ready to depart in half a centar," he ordered calmly. "Athena, when Baltar contacts us again, put it through to my quarters. That's where I'll be." 

He turned and strode off leaving a stunned Tigh to watch the two bridge officers quietly prepare to follow his orders, knowing what his next course of action would most likely be.

"Athena? Omega? What-?" Tigh began, totally confused; yet fearing the worst.

Neither answered. 

Athena knew there was no point trying to reason with her father when he was like this, nor her brother for that matter, as Adama's expression was that of Apollo's earlier one; sheer determination. The Commander would surrender himself to Baltar, and for his son's sake, he would save Sheba. But he could tell no one for fear that somehow it would get back to the Council of Twelve, who would surely forbid him to go, unable to see the reasoning of his sacrifice.

Athena shook her head. She couldn't find the words to tell Tigh the truth; only her father could do that.

Omega, too, was unable to speak. His Commander's decision was not for him to question, only to secretly admire and respect. Silent and watchful at his station as always, the bridge officer had been witness to Apollo's behaviour and it was obvious to him of the Captain's unspoken feelings. It was also apparent that Adama had known of these feelings a long while ago, and now, given the circumstances surrounding his son's previous love, had decided to take action to prevent it happening again. 

He watched the *Galactica's* executive officer stare after Adama then, after getting no response from Athena, look to him for answers. Answers he, and obviously Athena too, felt incapable of giving.

Frustrated with the pair's inability to communicate, Tigh took off in the direction of his superior officer's quarters.

*~*

The shuttle's journey was a silent one. In the co-pilot's seat, Apollo sat, lost in the innermost reaches of his deepest thoughts, as he planned his next course of action. 

Similarly, Starbuck, who was seated in the pilot's position, mulled over the possible consequences of the next few centars. He could see the anger burning brightly behind his best friend's eyes, not to mention the unspoken fear. 

Cassiopeia laid her hand on his arm, reassuring him that she was there. Starbuck might cover up his true feelings with jokes and bravado, but she could see Apollo's pain being reflected in his eyes, and it tore at her heart as much as the Captain's did. As a socialator, she'd been witness to many people's pain in the past but hardly ever anything like this, and never anything that touched her personally. 

Since her arrival on the *Galactica* and the ensuing Gamoray commando mission, Sheba and Cassiopeia had managed to do away with the animosity between them, even become friends, and now, with what she'd learned as the pair had watched Apollo depart with Starbuck in that raider and subsequently in her conversation with him, Cassiopeia was more than worried with what could happen next.

With Apollo's feelings to consider and Starbuck's readiness to help both him and Sheba, not to mention her own personal involvement, it would be difficult to remain professional throughout this mission. Yet, Cassiopeia, ever optimistic, was confident that they would succeed somehow.

She was brought out of her reverie as Starbuck managed to smile back at her, and take her hand in his own, trying to convince her that he was fine and it was Sheba they should be worried about. Still, her concern touched a deeper part of him; that same vulnerable part she'd managed to brush upon before the attack on the base star.

He sighed. Their conversation at the awards ceremony that next day was one that would stay with him forever, of that he was certain. The gentleness in her voice, the understanding, the new strength that their relationship had found when they admitted how much they had come to really love each other. In some ways, they weren't all that unlike Apollo and Sheba, and yet, in other ways, they were so much different.

For a long time now, Starbuck had privately thought that Apollo and Sheba had been made for each other. Commander's son and Commander's daughter; two people who, unlike everyone else, could truly understand each other's positions and what expectations others had for them.Adama might not have been quite as legendary as Cain, but what was expected of their children was the same. It might have been more difficult for Sheba seeing as Apollo had siblings but, as the eldest, more attention was on him.

Both had lost a great deal that was dear to them and ever since they'd met, Starbuck had noticed that when Sheba wasn't aware he was there, or she was busy with something, Apollo's gaze would drift in her direction, silently taking her in from afar. The connection was born almost immediately, especially when Sheba returned his unseen gaze with one of her own. It had almost been shattered by Count Iblis's arrival, but the conclusion to that chain of events had shown him a different side of his best friend.

Now, with what he'd already seen, Starbuck knew that nothing Apollo did on this mission in order to ensure Sheba's safety would surprise him. In fact, he had a fair idea of what the Captain was probably planning. . .

*~*

Apollo had been friends with Starbuck for so long that the Lieutenant had indeed guessed what his line of thinking had been. Like his father before him, Apollo had told himself there was only one option. He was a far more valuable hostage than Sheba; Baltar could have him instead. He would trade himself for his love and pray to the Lords of Kobol that this would be one agreement the Great Traitor did not betray.

"There it is," Starbuck said quietly, breaking into his thoughts.

Up ahead, looming in the darkness of space, was the prison barge.

*~*

Sheba watched angrily as Baltar stared at her from his position in the pilot's seat of the shuttle; as he had been staring at her for what seemed like the last half centar, since he had moved her into a sitting position from her sprawl on the cold metal floor. So far he had said nothing since his sarcastic welcome as she regained consciousness, but she sensed more words would not be long in coming. 

She watched him stand suddenly and come towards her, making her see just what damage he had done during their fight.

The insides of the shuttle spun as he neared her, putting her on the verge of blacking out again. Unconsciously, she moved back against the wall as he came closer, silently vowing not to give him any clues to her hampered condition.

"I am sorry, my dear," Baltar said earnestly as he touched her cheek. "That I had to do this but, you see," he explained. "Adama has to pay."

He spoke as if to a child, softly, trying to make her understand; dangerously, trying to make her think it was he who had been wronged. She moved her face away from his cold fingers; his unwholesome touch. Baltar really didn't think he had a hope in Hades of convincing her he was the victim here, did he?

Evidently he did. Baltar moved back from her as if hurt, then, without warning, brought his hand back across her face in a hard fist. "Insolence does not become you, Lieutenant," the traitor said shaking his head. 

She didn't reply.

"Although, I must admit," he added. "It *is* good to see you again."

Still, she remained silent, refusing to acknowledge anything he said, not to mention the incident he referred to. Understandably, that particular mission was not one of her favourites.

"You know," he continued, seeing her failure to react. "It really is a great pity your father is not with us." He paused. "You would be so much more valuable." 

Sheba looked at him warily as he smirked triumphantly. That got her! "As it is, after Adama agrees to my demands, you are expendable."

The full force of his words struck her like a battlestar being destroyed. She should have known there would be no deal, not from Baltar. Once the Commander agreed to give in to the traitor, her life would be over. She would never see Apollo, would never see her friends, would never see her father, ever again. 

"No," she whispered, a tear beginning to form in her eye. This wasn't fair!

Baltar paid no attention to her, instead dreaming of his final defeat of the *Galactica's* vaunted Commander. He had been close before; the pulsar on Arcta, the battle where the Pegasus had unexpectedly appeared, the subsequent suicide runs he had ordered only three days later. Yes, he had been close before, but this time, he would finish the job. Unless. . .

Out of his reverie, he stepped back to look down at his hostage.

"Your Captain Apollo might present a problem, though," Baltar thought aloud as he came to a sudden realization. "A big problem."

At the mention of Apollo, Sheba's heart beat faster, her tears instantly forgotten. What was the traitor talking about? The dark-haired Captain was on the *Galactica*, he couldn't- 

Then it hit her.

"Apollo's coming?" she whispered unbelievingly, her spirits rising from the depths of despair to the peaks of joy, as she realized she could almost sense his approach. Why hadn't she thought of that before? Of course, he would come for her! She silently thanked the Lords of Kobol for her deliverance and prayed that Apollo would hurry.

"Tell me," Baltar said suddenly, kneeling down so he was face to face with her. "Are you and the Commander's son. . . involved?"

Sheba glared at him, the pain evident in her eyes.

"Answer me!" he cried angrily, bringing his hand back across her face again. A few drops of blood ran from her nose.

"No," she spat, putting every ounce of hate into her words. "We're not involved."

He looked at her curiously, then he dismissed it. It didn't really matter, Apollo had been affected deeply by the sight of the unconscious Sheba; if he came to interfere, he would soon back off when Baltar threatened her.

"No matter," he smirked, and stood up, not in the least bit fooled. "I think you would still be ample insurance if the good Captain comes to call."

Sheba looked up, fear gripping her soul, at the thought of the danger her love was walking right into. A tear escaped her eye and trickled down her bloody cheek. *Forgive me, Apollo.*

*~*

Adama eased himself into the chair and steepled his head on his fingers, regarding the door with a watchful eye. He was sure that any moment now, Tigh would burst in wanting to know just what in Hades was going on. As he had every right to.

The Commander sighed. As Adama's executive, Tigh had been a professional and able officer, but, through all the troubles, all the conflicts, he had been a close and loyal friend as well, and to keep something like this from him was something the Commander would never consider, but he hadn't wanted to deal with his inevitable protests in front of the rest of the bridge crew. It had to be done in private, where he could explain everything and leave nothing out.

The door chimed, interrupting his train of thought.

"Come in, Tigh," Adama called wearily. Where did he start?

The door slid open to reveal, not Tigh, but Siress Tinia.

"Why, Tinia," Adama rose from his chair. "I'm sorry, I was expecting Colonel Tigh. Won't you sit down?" He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of his desk. He didn't really have time for this but the troubled expression on her face concerned him.

"Adama," she began worriedly. "I'm not sure how to tell you this, I-"

The Commander's comm system beeped as Omega's voice interrupted the Siress.

"Commander? The Viper you requested? It's ready to go."

"Thank you, Omega," Adama said as he walked away from his guest, making his way towards the desk.

"Um, sir? Colonel Tigh's on his way to see you. I thought you might want to know."

Adama smiled to himself. "Of course."

A moment passed as the bridge officer fidgeted on the other end. "Good luck, sir," he said quietly as he readied himself to break the communication.

"Thank you again, Omega," the Commander replied, as he watched Tinia's startled reaction.  
As soon as he broke contact, she was on him.

"Adama, what's going on?" she asked, confused. "Why do you need a Viper?" Something told her this was no trip to the Rising Star; this, she was certain, was serious.

He eyed Tinia, debating whether or not to trust her. Before he could give her an answer, Tigh burst through the door, not bothering to announce his presence.

"Adama!" he exclaimed.

"Colonel Tigh! Do you think it is acceptable behaviour to barge into someone's room unannounced?" Tinia's voice called out angrily.

"What?" he asked, noticing the Council member for the first time.

"I said-"

"Enough!" Adama exclaimed. "Sit down, Tigh. Tinia, I think you-"

"I want to know what's going on, Adama," she cut him off sharply. "And I'm not going without an answer."

He seemed to dwell on that for a moment, debating in his mind, his next move. He didn't have time for this, he could only hope she could be trusted. If not. . .

"Adama, please?" Tigh asked.

"Baltar has captured one of the warriors I sent to the prison barge," he began soberly, aiming his words more at Tinia than Tigh. "He is holding her hostage on board a shuttle in the prison barge's launch bay. He has agreed to release her in exchange for me. He will contact me in approximately ten centons to discuss the terms of my surrender."

"Adama, you- you can't go," Tinia exclaimed. "The Council, the reason I came to see you, they have voted Sire Antipas to President. He has them all, save Councillor Anton and myself, supporting him. At this very centon, he is plotting your downfall."

"I have to go," he stated. 

So far, Tigh had said nothing, stunned into silence. He looked up suddenly and caught Adama's eye. "She's right, Commander. We need you; you can't just give yourself up to Baltar."

"The warrior," Adama replied. "The woman he has, it's Sheba."

"Sheba?" The name would mean nothing to Tinia, but now Tigh understood all too well. "Does Apollo. . .?" He couldn't finish the question.

The Commander nodded slowly. "He and Starbuck took off in a shuttle about half a centar ago. Since then, nothing."

Tigh sighed. He wasn't surprised, though whether Apollo was going as a friend, or possibly as something more, he couldn't be sure. But this wasn't the time to worry about that. 

"If Apollo and Starbuck are going, then why do you have to?" Tinia interjected, not understanding the significance of Sheba, but recognising the names of the other two warriors. "If you don't do something, Adama, then Antipas will be in full control. He'll have the power to do just about anything he wants with the other Council members supporting him." Seeing she wasn't persuading him, she added: "He could even stop the journey to Earth. Convince everyone to settle down on some nearby planet."

"Not everyone," Adama answered quietly. He knew she was right and now he was torn, but. . . "I have to go," he repeated. "As a decoy. If I don't agree to Baltar's terms, he will undoubtedly kill Sheba."

Tigh could see his friend's quandary. To go and attempt to save Sheba's life; to risk sacrificing the journey to Earth. Or to stay and defend his place on the Council, and so condemn her to death. What could he do? A life was more important than politics but then, there could be more than one life at stake if Antipas gained control. 

"If he kills her, he will have nothing left to bargain with," Tinia replied.

"It wouldn't matter. Assuming I refused to surrender, killing her would be enough for him if he thought it would cause me pain." He walked behind his guests and stared out of the small window, far across the stars. "And it would," he whispered. Not to mention Apollo. 

Tigh and Tinia exchanged a helpless look. Both could see there was more to this than he was telling them, but neither one could think of anything else to dissuade him with. The thought of the journey to Earth, the thought he had cherished since the day of the destruction, the suggestion he could sacrifice that had not been strong enough. As it was not as a Commander he was acting, it was as a father, to both his son and Cain's daughter. The promise he had made at her bedside after the Pegasus disappeared, the promise to include her in his family, had to be honoured. Could he really live with himself knowing he had sentenced her to death? There could only be one answer to such a question, and Adama knew he was making the right choice.

"I'm coming with you, Adama."

"No, Tigh. I need you on the bridge." The Commander turned to face his other guest. "Tinia, I need you to try and convince the other Council members not to follow Antipas so blindly. His thirst for power and glory is dangerous; he cannot be allowed to gain control."

"Anton and I tried our best during the meeting. Everything we said, every argument we raised, he managed to veto almost instantly."

"Well talk to them outside of Council meetings, when he is not able to argue his case. Warn the other members, tell them of his lust for power. Do not be silent, Tinia."

"I'll. . . I'll do my best," she stammered, awed by the eloquence of his words and surprised with the amount of trust he had placed in her. "I'll do my best."

"Adama? Do you want us to stay, while your speaking to Baltar, I mean?" Tigh asked.

"No," he shook his head solemnly as his gaze continued to linger on the stars. "No. It's better if I face him alone."

*The Lords be with you, Adama,* Tinia thought, as they left. *The Lords be with you.*


	5. Consequence Of Alliance Chapter 5

Consequence Of Alliance  
-Chapter 5-

Apollo watched as Starbuck expertly piloted the shuttle into the far end of the prison barge's landing bay. He knew, as the senior officer, he should really be the one doing that, but his friend had insisted, privately thinking that maybe the Captain wasn't quite fit to fly. He would have denied it if asked, but Apollo knew it was true. Normally, worry made him work more efficiently, but this time was different. The fact that it was Sheba was throwing him off, much as he tried his best to concentrate. Thoughts of what she was going through on that shuttle plagued his mind, weaving tangled webs of worry, fear and guilt in the deepest recesses of his soul.

He looked urgently out towards the shuttle he knew contained the Great Traitor. It was far enough from the door connecting the bay with the rest of the ship to rule that out as an escape route. If Baltar tried to get out that way, Apollo would see him. 

There was a large enough space between his shuttle and theirs to make it a good ground for the exchange Apollo hoped to make. But he would have to make sure that the barge's security guards were out of the way first.

"Starbuck," he began quietly, "I want you to go to the bridge. They must know by now that Baltar's free. Explain that *we're* going to stop him and that they've not to interfere."

"What are you going to be doing?" his friend asked, already knowing the answer.

For a centon, Apollo didn't reply, his gaze still fixed on the traitor's shuttle. Finally, he turned to look Starbuck straight in the eye. "Whatever I have to."

He reached over and started to activate the shuttle's comm unit, oblivious to the worried look exchanged between Starbuck and Cassiopeia.

*~*

Baltar hadn't moved from his seat for what seemed like an eternity, much to Sheba's relief. The slightest movement made her dizzy. Twice she thought she had blacked out again after moving her head just a bit too quickly. In her injured state, she could see no possible way for her to escape. Her hands and feet were bound, though with what she wasn't sure, she was badly hurt and even if she wasn't the Great Traitor hadn't taken his eyes off of her, even in his apparent deep thought.

She couldn't tell just how badly she was injured, but the blows to the head she had taken, she was sure, were serious. Apart from feeling light-headed, not to mention cold, her vision seemed to be deteriorating, blurring so she could no longer see things clearly, making everything around her seem to take on a darker hue. She didn't think she could move her arms and legs even if they had been free of their bonds and the blood that had run from her nose earlier, though it had stopped quite quickly, was now threatening to drip out again. 

Without warning, Baltar stepped forward and grabbed her wrist roughly, twisting it to look at her time piece. It took all of Sheba's will power to stop herself being sick at his sudden movement, even more so when she realised from the almost joyful look on the traitor's face that Adama's centar was up. 

Her arm flopped back down; she had no control over it whatsoever. As she had feared, there would be no way she could escape while Baltar's back was turned.

She watched him move once again towards the comm system and activate it, deftly pressing buttons and adjusting to the frequency he desired. His eyes lit up as, surprisingly, he got straight through to the Commander.

"Baltar," she heard him greet the traitor, obviously trying to keep the emotion, the anger and disgust, from his voice.

"Adama." Baltar smiled, certain he had won. "Your centar is up. Have you made a decision?"

The Commander nodded solemnly, doing his best not to look towards Sheba. "Yes." 

He could almost feel the sickening wave of anticipation, the smugness radiating from Baltar, as he realised what Adama's decision was going to be. Nevertheless, the traitor had to hear it from the Commander's own lips, had to savour the moment he had waited so long to experience.

"And that would be?"

"Release Lt. Sheba now and I will surrender myself to you," Adama said flatly, giving the traitor no assurances as to his feelings.

"You expect me to free her this very centon? With no guarantee that you will fulfil your end of the bargain?" Baltar inquired. Did he take him for a complete and utter fool?

"I will land on the prison barge in one centar from now. You will meet me in the middle of the bay and make the exchange," he replied coldly. 

"You will come alone?"

Adama paused. "Yes."

"And unarmed?"

"Yes," he sighed. He had no choice, if Apollo and Starbuck's plan was going to work.

"One centar, then." Baltar smiled smugly once again, new confidence gained from the defeated tone of Adama's voice.

"One centar," Adama whispered. *God speed, my son.*

*~*

Almost as soon as Baltar cut off the transmission, the comm unit beeped, announcing that someone else was trying to contact the shuttle. Surprised, the traitor reactivated the unit, his mouth falling open with shock when he saw just who it was. 

"A-Apollo," he stammered as he tried to recover himself from the glare of those green eyes. How could *he* be here? Surely he would have known if. . . Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Captain's shuttle, sitting, close to the wall, on the other side of the bay, in the very spot where his father was supposed to land, one centar from now. What was going on?

Sheba had been paying little attention to Baltar's discussion with Adama, not particularly wanting to hear the hidden intent underneath his orchestrated lies, but, as before, she immediately lifted at the mention of the Captain. She really didn't want Apollo to see her like this, didn't want to think about the pain he would feel, but for him to rescue her from this ordeal, she would have done almost anything. Turning her head as slowly as she could, yet still managing to bring on a wave of nausea, she strained to see him.

As cool and calm as he had managed to be with Baltar, when Sheba lifted her head and fixed those deep brown eyes on him, Apollo very nearly lost it. In those dark embers, he could sense a plea from the very deepest reaches of her soul calling out to him for help but, as much as he wanted to take time to reassure her, he couldn't let his eyes linger on her for more than a micron; he had to concentrate on Baltar. Even so, in the brief moment their eyes met, more passed between them than could ever have been spoken. Feelings so intimate, they could not be ignored; so powerful, they could never die; so tender and loving, they could be denied no longer. 

His green eyes took in her pale face, the cut to her forehead, the blood, the tears. . . Baltar would pay for the pain he had caused her, if it took the rest of his life, Apollo swore he would pay. His own tears threatened to well up but he angrily willed them away; this was not the time to be sidetracked by his own feelings. He had something more important to do.

"Did you want something, Captain?" Baltar inquired, making Apollo realise how long he had been silent. 

The mocking tone of his voice made Apollo wish with all his being that the traitor was here in front of him, close enough to wipe that smug smile of his full features, close enough to make sure he never harmed anyone again. 

Breaking the fragile link that held him with Sheba, it took all of his strength to look towards Baltar and muster an answer. "I want to make a deal."

"Oh?" Baltar kept his tone flat, not wanting the confusion he was sure was etched on his face to show through in his voice. What could Apollo possibly want?

The Captain kept his eyes fixed firmly on Baltar's face. He knew if he looked towards Sheba again, he wouldn't be able to look away. Apollo swallowed, concentrated on keeping his voice steady. "A trade," he said. "As a hostage, I'm more valuable. You release her, and take me instead."

Sheba was visibly stunned. Shocked would be a more appropriate word. Her mouth hung open, her head shaking in disbelief. "No," she said weakly, her voice raising as she continued. "Apollo, no. You can't-" 

"Quiet!" Baltar snapped, still trying to take this in. Apollo, Adama's *son*, was offering himself in exchange for Sheba exactly as his father had less than ten centons ago. This was almost unbelievable. But, of course, he was right; as the Commander's son, he was far more valuable than the woman he was currently holding hostage. 

Sheba glared back at him defiantly, but yet another wave of sickness, worse than all the others left her motionless against the cold metal of the shuttle wall. Worse still, a sudden sharp pain in her head threatened to pull her back into the dark oblivion of unconsciousness again.

Apollo watched Baltar's eyes as they lit up with excitement at the obvious guarantee of capturing Adama, of finally attaining the victory he had obsessed over for the last two yahrens.

The traitor studied his face, trying to determine if he was truly serious. Finding nothing to tell him otherwise, Baltar allowed himself to smile.

"Very well, Apollo," he said, amused at the similarity to the negotiations he had been making with both father and son. "You will meet me outside in ten centons. You will come alone and unarmed." 

"What about a med-tech?" the Captain asked. "She has no weapon."

Baltar looked to Sheba. He really hadn't meant to hit her so hard, and judging from her steadily deteriorating condition, she did seem to be hurt quite badly. "All right," he said cautiously, "But she must stay back until you and I have returned to the shuttle. After that, she is to take the Lieutenant back to her own craft and stay there."

"Can't she take her to the barge's Life Station?"

"No," he said flatly. "No-one is to come into or go out of this bay."

Apollo could see there would be no changing his mind. As long as he got Sheba away from the traitor and out of danger, it would be enough. But then, would it? What if. . .

He pushed the thoughts away as he nodded his agreement of Baltar's terms. 

"Fine." He paused. "But if you don't go through with this deal, I'll make sure you never make another one. And that's a promise." 

He wasn't sure where the words came from; whether they were a product of all the pain he'd been put through since the Destruction or whether they came from a dark, sinister subconscious that demanded revenge, but Apollo knew that he had never been more serious in his life.

Baltar seemed to sense that and said nothing as he broke the communication.

*~*

"Look," Starbuck said as he hurried to keep up with the group of guards. "Apollo's orders were-"

"Apollo's orders mean nothing around here," Reese interrupted him. "All we want to do, is get Baltar back into his cell, okay?"

"I'm sure you do," Starbuck replied sarcastically, his anger beginning to get the better of him. "Baltar's been free for over two centars now and what've you done? Absolutely nothing. Now, I've got a friend on board that shuttle and another one who's probably risking his neck right about now, trying to help her, so-"

"Since Ensign Jonas' body was found, we've done everything in our power to track Baltar down. We deployed a standard search pattern-"

"That started at the other end of the frackin' ship!" Starbuck exclaimed. "A prisoner's loose, escaped, and trying to get free. Do you honestly think he'd go anywhere other than the landing bay?"

"If we had been told about Baltar's release, we might have been able to stop him sooner. We didn't even know who it was that had escaped. Besides, there weren't supposed to *be* any shuttles in the bay. "

"But still you didn't think to check there?"

Reese didn't reply. If the Lieutenant knew exactly what his crew had been doing for the past few centars, he didn't doubt they would all lose their jobs, and a whole lot more. Working on the prison barge wasn't the best job in the fleet, but at least as a result, you got decent quarters as well as decent food. He knew he'd never survive life on one of the freighters- frack, being a prisoner would be better- so news of their little 'celebration' had better not get back to either Starbuck or Apollo.

He moved forward, away from the Lieutenant and towards the other, slightly inebriated members of the posse. 

"Make sure no-one blabs about our little get-together. Starbuck's looking for blood," Reese whispered he passed.

No one gave any indication that they'd heard him. They didn't need to. All of them knew what the consequences would be if anyone found out, and they had no wish to end up living in a cubicle even smaller than the cells aboard the prison barge they worked on.

As discreet as he'd been, Starbuck had noticed Reese's little gesture to the guards and was instantly suspicious as to its nature. He increased his pace so he was level with the boy at the very rear of the group. Inconspicuously drawing his laser from his holster, he rested it in the small of the boy's back. "Now," he asked. "What was all that about."

The boy tensed as he felt the barrel against him and tried not to panic. "Just. . . orders."

"Orders?" Starbuck asked, then shook his head. "Try again." Something told him that there was more going on here than met the eye. Call it gambler's intuition or maybe just paranoia, but something just didn't feel. . . right. He more than suspected the truth about what had been going on earlier, and this was just beginning to confirm it.

Tobias looked towards the front of the group where Reese was walking, leading them towards the landing bay. He looked terrified. "I. . . I can't-"

"Take it you don't know how this thing works?" Starbuck questioned. "I'm not having a good day, so if you don't tell me what I want to know, then I'm gonna pull the trigger and send you back down to Hades where you and the rest of your friends here belong. Okay?" 

Tobias nodded. 

Starbuck resisted the sudden urge to grin. "Good. Now let's start again. What was all that about?"

Before the boy could answer, the group came to a stop outside the large doors that led to the landing bay. As Reese began to direct people and quietly give out instructions, Starbuck left the boy and made his way to the front.

"You have to stop, Reese. If you go in there firing, you could kill them all." Seeing his words were having no effect, he added: "Do you really want to have that kind of blood on your hands?"

"Look, Lieutenant," Reese answered. "We have a job to do, so get out of the way."

Starbuck moved forward, unsure of what he intended to do to the Blackshirt, but before he knew what was happening, two other members of the group had grabbed him by the arms, and hauled him out of the way. 

Struggling unsuccessfully he could only watch as Reese's men stormed their way through the door.

*~*

Apollo stood motionless in the centre of the bay, his gaze fixed expectantly on the shuttle in front of him. More than once, he had reached down to touch his laser, a reassuring movement he always made when nervous, only to find it wasn't there. 

Cassiopeia stood to his right, her medkit clutched tightly in her hands. Apollo had said little to her after his discussion with Baltar and with Starbuck gone her mind couldn't help but dwell on her friend's condition. 

Going unnoticed from her spot behind Apollo, she couldn't help but see what bad shape Sheba was in. The cut on her head didn't look too bad, but the blood that she'd seen coming from her nose was worrying her. If Baltar hadn't hit her, that could be a sign of internal bleeding. How bad, she couldn't tell from mere sight but the sooner she managed to check her friend over, the better. She didn't want to think Sheba's condition could be life-threatening.

She looked towards the exit Starbuck had used before Apollo's communication. She desperately wished he was standing beside her, supporting both her and the Captain, but if Security barged in unexpectedly, there was no telling what Baltar would do. They could all die if he decided to make use of his- Sheba's- laser. 

Apollo stiffened as the traitor appeared suddenly from behind the shuttle. Clutched tightly to him was the limp form of Sheba. Her head hung against the arm that gripped her awkwardly around the chest, as her mind surrendered to the darkness that promised to ease her pain.

Apollo's eyes flared with anger as he saw the traitor deposit her roughly on the ground as if she were no more than a kit bag. She looked even worse now than she had a quarter of a centar ago. 

As far as he could tell, she was unconscious, destroying his last chance to let her know, in person, the true depths of his feelings. His last chance to apologize for the way he'd treated her; sometimes deliberatly getting her angry, just to see those lovely eyes darken; sometimes shying away from her, hurting her, just to stop her getting too close; sometimes ignoring her; just to deny to himself how much he needed her. 

Above all, though, it would be his last chance to say the words he knew she had to hear. They weren't hard to think, but to say, "I love you;" that could be the most difficult thing in the universe.

Baltar leveled his laser at the Captain. Carefully, almost delicately, he pushed Sheba towards Apollo with his foot, not for one moment letting the expectant look leave his face.

Apollo moved slowly forward, hands in the air, as he began the exchange. Just when he was almost close enough to reach out and touch Sheba, a volley of laser fire erupted around them as the Blackshirts dived in for the kill.


	6. Consequence Of Alliance Chapter 6

Consequence Of Alliance  
-Chapter 6-

Baltar spun around, eyes wide and wild with disbelief as he took in the group of guards advancing towards him. This couldn't be happening! Not now, not when he was so close!

Laser blasts exploded around the traitor, coming very close to wiping out, not just him, but Apollo, Sheba and Cassiopeia too.

As he dived for cover, Baltar managed to get off a few misplaced shots, bringing more than one of the Blackshirts to the ground. Looking back, he saw he had left Sheba unguarded in the midst of the laser-fire, still lying unconscious on the tarmac. With no hostage, they could just keep shooting until he was dead. He had to get to her before someone else did. He would not be stopped. He'd die before he let them lock him up again.

Seeing the dark intent in Baltar's eyes, Apollo lunged forward, his left hand reaching desperately for Sheba's flight jacket. His fingers only brushed the dark material before it was pulled abruptly away from his grasp. He made one last try before a sudden searing pain in his shoulder brought him crashing to the ground. Before he could recover, Baltar had hoisted Sheba up into her previous position and was running back towards the shuttle, regardless of the energy blasts that were hitting it.

"*Apollo!*"

The Captain looked around to see Starbuck, broken free of the Blackshirt's grip, running towards him, laser drawn. Trying not to hit Sheba, he let off a barrage of shots at Baltar's feet, just as the group of guards finally ceased their fire. The traitor disappeared around the side of shuttle, but not before felling two more of Reese's men. 

"*Apollo!*" Starbuck shouted as he ran to help him. "You alright?" 

"Stop him!" Apollo replied weakly as he struggled to get up, heedless, now, of the laser wound on his arm. "Starbuck, you have to stop him!" The pain was still evident in his voice as he sat helpless on the tarmac. "*Please.*" 

Starbuck shook his head, defeated, as he helped his friend up. "He's in the shuttle. There's no way we can get to him now, we'll have to-"

His next words were drowned out by the unmistakable roar of engines being activated. 

Before them, Baltar's shuttle rose into the air, its pilot oblivious to the shower of sparks erupting from its engines. As it flew towards the sanctity of space, the port stabiliser exploded in a cloud of smoke sending the craft dangerously close to wall of the landing bay. 

"Sheba," he whispered. Powerless to stop it, Apollo could only watch as the shuttle plunged to the left and crashed directly into one of the huge metal supports, bursting almost immediately into flames.

*~*

Only centons away, Adama deftly piloted his Viper towards the distinctive darkness of the prison barge. His eyes studied its smooth form, looming at him through the heavens, and were drawn, almost instantly, to its landing bay by the incredible flare that suddenly erupted from within. 

The ship's only landing bay, the Commander knew that the apex of this event was, at that very moment, taking place, with him totally powerless to interfere.

*~*

Back on the *Galactica*, Siress Tinia made her way anxiously to the Council chambers. Since Adama had left, she had managed to speak with Siress Octavia, Councillor Leto and Councillor Anton. While Octavia had dismissed her concerns as pure paranoia, Leto and, of course, Anton had been more receptive. The older man obviously shared her views, but Councillor Leto had taken some convincing before he'd even listen to her. Nevertheless, he'd left their conversation obviously doubting the words he'd spoken in defence of Sire Antipas.

The meeting she was on her way to attend had been called only 30 centons after Adama's departure. Somehow, she feared, Antipas had found out about the Commander's plan, either that or her own involvement and, of course, the subsequent 'talks' she'd had with the other Council members. She wished she'd had time to speak with the others, but having just started to track down Councillor Ulysses, she'd received the urgent message of the Council meeting.

Hesitating as she reached the doors, Tinia recalled Adama's words. He had told her not to be silent, and she'd be damned if Antipas was going to get away with his arrogant play for power. 

Drawing herself up to full height, she stood tall as she made her way haughtily into the chambers to the waiting members of the Council of Twelve.

*~*

For Apollo, the next few moments seemed to last a lifetime. He watched the shuttle screech to a stop, just short of the landing bay doors; the flames that seemed to engulf the ship all at once, blackening it's hull, suffocating the people inside. Without giving it a second thought, he sped forward, through the fire, and disappeared inside it, regardless of Starbuck and Cassiopeia's shouts.

Instead, his mind could only focus on the last time he had risked his life for Sheba. Transported back to that strange, red planet, Apollo could quite clearly see Iblis beginning the gesture to end her life; could feel himself push her bodily out of the way; could feel himself die. At the time, he hadn't cared. It didn't matter, as long as the Count's spell over Sheba was broken. She was safe; that was the last thought he could remember before the darkness had taken him.

This time was identical. Nothing mattered, except getting Sheba out of that shuttle. He could not see the fear on his friend's faces, could not feel the terror that dwelled in their hearts. As before, it didn't matter.

Plunging through the flames, he made his way to the cockpit, relieved to find it almost undamaged, except for some smoke billowing from a destroyed control panel. Lying underneath it, Sheba moaned in agony as she drifted in and out of consciousness. 

As he moved towards her, Apollo could not help but be reminded of Serina, felled on the sands of Kobol, writhing in similar pain. Then, he had been helpless, but not this time. The thought that Sheba could die from her injuries never crossed his mind. He wouldn't let it. All his energy had to be focused on rescuing his love, before it was too late. 

His gaze lingered on the prone figure of Baltar for only a micron. Still sitting in the pilot's chair, the traitor's head rested on the controls in front of him. Blood gushed from a gash on his head. Apollo hadn't the time to check whether he lived or not; every moment counted if Sheba was to survive. 

"Burn in Hades, Baltar," he whispered, unable to stop himself, before he moved on to Sheba. 

Kneeling down next to her, Apollo gathered his beloved into his arms as gently as he could and, taking great care to keep her as still as possible, began to carry her out of the cockpit. 

Very dimly, Sheba had been aware of the presence that approached her from out of nowhere. How she recognised Apollo, she could not have said, but the trace of a smile on her lips showed, without doubt, that she knew he was there. The strength of love had not deserted her as she managed, through a sudden rack of coughing, to whisper his name. "Apollo?"

The Captain looked down in shock to see Sheba gazing up at him through the smoke. Wiping the blood from her face, he managed to smile, a tear trickling down his cheek as she murmured an almost inaudible "thank you." 

Before he could answer, a weakened piece of metal fell from overhead, narrowly missing landing on top of them. Holding Sheba closer to him, Apollo hurried forward to the shuttle's exit, heedless of the flames licking at his feet and the increasing pain in his shoulder. 

*~*

Back in the landing bay of the prison barge, Starbuck and Cassiopeia could do nothing but watch Apollo go, as the fires around them spread out of control. Nearby, the pitifully small fire-control team of the ship did their best to extinguish the flames, but their boraton failed to make an impact. All too late, Starbuck could see the danger. 

Along the hull, the blaze had torn, consuming the ship's precious oxygen and getting ever-closer to the engines. It wouldn't be long before they reached them, they were situated so close to the edge of the vessel.

Grabbing Cassi's hand, Starbuck pulled her back towards their shuttle, away from the flames, and pushed her inside. As soon as she realised he was not following, the blond medtech came to an abrupt stop, and, not letting his hand out of hers, demanded to know where he was going.

He didn't reply. There weren't words powerful enough to express the turbulence of emotion inside of him. His desire to protect the only woman he could ever admit to loving. His need to help his friends. His loyalty to Apollo. He could never leave without him. 

Cassiopeia understood, and for that he was glad, but still she held him back. "We'll wait as long as we can, Starbuck," she assured him, "but we have to be ready to go."

Starbuck looked back towards the flaming remains of the shuttle and the people still clustered to the side. "He won't leave without her, Cass. . . and I don't think I can either."

"None of us are going to get out of here at this rate," she replied, her voice loud over the roar of the fire. "When Apollo gets back *we have to be ready to go!*" Seeing it wasn't working, she added: "Starbuck. . . I don't want to go without them, but-"

"Wait here!" he said, ignoring her. "I'll be back!"

Before Cassiopeia could stop him, Starbuck had broken free of her grip and was making his way towards Reese, who was standing in a cluster with the remaining Blackshirts, their eyes captivated by the fires. 

"*Reese!*" Grabbing his shoulder, Starbuck whirled the guard around. "You'd better start getting people out of here before the fracking ship goes," he shouted. "And from the looks of it, that's going to be sooner rather than later." 

His face ashen, the Blackshirt could not reply. Not much of a leader in the first place, and much more concerned about looking out for himself than anyone else, the repercussions of his earlier actions were coming back to haunt the Blackshirt, guilt and fear undeniably incapacitating him.

He could feel Tobias and Monroe, his second-in-command, pulling him along as they rushed to carry out the orders Starbuck had just issued. Looking back for just a micron, Reese could see the look of utter contempt in the Lieutenant's eyes and knew, without a doubt, that as soon as he could make it possible, Starbuck would make him face the consequences for his behaviour today.

*~*

Watching them leave, Starbuck saw the flames arcing around the bay and closing off the exit the Blackshirts had just used. With an air of desperation, his eyes snapped back to Baltar's shuttle, looking for any sign of his best friend. He watched and waited for what seemed like an eternity before he could hear a frantic Cassiopeia calling him back.

As he made his way across the bay, tears inadvertently running down his face, Starbuck could feel the barge rock as an explosion sounded from Baltar's shuttle. Knocked off his feet, he looked back and saw, to his amazement, the dark figure of Apollo emerging from the inferno, Sheba in his arms.

Rushing to help him, Cassiopeia ran past Starbuck, shouting back to him to get the ship fired up so they could get out of here.

As if in a dream, Apollo moved past Cassi and through the shuttle doors to the backside passenger area, leaving her to make sure the entrance was closed. He laid the now-unconscious Sheba down on the seat as gently as he could and turned her face towards him, cradling it with his hand. Badly burnt and barely breathing, her eyes were shut and blood was still flowing from the cut on her forehead. His tender fingers brushed it away as he tried to bring her back to consciousness, unaware that Cassiopeia was watching.

"*Apollo!*" Starbuck's shout brought him back to the reality of the fire and the shuttle. "I can't fly this thing by myself!"

"I'm sorry, Sheba," he whispered as he rested her against the wall and, slipping by the waiting med tech, made his way to the shuttle's cockpit. "I'm so sorry."

*~*

"Can you not see the position Antipas puts us in?" Tinia's angry voice shouted. 

Since she'd arrived at the Council meeting five centons ago, things had gone from bad to worse. Intending to put her arguments across in a calm and professional matter, she had found it impossible when faced with Antipas' superior and condescending manner. Thus, the meeting was slowly turning into a riot.

"As the President of the Council of Twelve, I-" Antipas began.

"President?" Tinia demanded, as she looked to the other members. "Only two centars ago, I watched uncertainly as you aided this man in usurping Commander Adama's position the centon his back was turned. Now I ask you *why* you can't see that he no more deserves this seat of power than Baltar deserves to live?" 

"*Tinia!*" Montrose shouted, outraged.

"She is right, Sire," Councillor Anton said quietly, as he turned to Antipas. "You bring corruption to the Council of Twelve, and I for one shall not submit to it. It is obvious to me you have eyes only for your own well-being and a need for power that will undoubtedly bring us misfortune. To follow you is madness, and for others in this quorum to be doing so is appalling." The elderly man paused before continuing. "You spoke only this morning of Adama using a traitor for his own personal gain, and I believe that in doing so you also managed to describe this situation perfectly. Traitors to justice, and to Adama, the man who delivered us from the Cylons, you have coerced the other members of the Council into supporting you, no doubt with promises of wealth and power, and the luxury you think you deserve." 

"You speak of traitors, Anton," Antipas purred. "What of the woman you so vehemently support. What of Siress Tinia?"

Tinia's heart sank as she saw the Councillor falter, unsure of what the young Sire referred to.

Antipas took the opportunity. "You are still her staunchest supporter after she allies herself with our elusive Commander and then lies to us, the Council of Twelve, about his whereabouts?"

"I did not lie, *Sire*, I merely did not break the trust of the true President, who has only-"

"Spare us more of your lies, Tinia," Antipas snapped. "You swore an oath of allegiance to this Council, and neglecting to tell us of Adama's actions, not to mention the real truth of *why* he has gone is, in my view, a crime worse than his."

"I swore allegiance to an honourable Council of Twelve; a quorum who cared for the people of the fleet and who believed in justice. As far as I'm concerned, your *new* Council is not worthy of my loyalty." Taking a deep breath, Tinia turned to the other Council members. "And so it should be with you."

Ignoring her words, Domra stood up. "What are you talking about, Antipas?" he asked. "What is this truth you speak of?" The middle-aged Council member did not know who to believe. True he was hardly ever one of Adama's supporters, but he still respected the man. To find out that he had lied to them twice in such a short time, and such severe lies as well, was not helping to move him in favour of the Commander.

"Siress Tinia, would you care to shed the light, seeing as you are so personally involved in keeping it from the rest of us?" Antipas asked.

The other members of the Council nodding in agreement, Tinia could see she had no choice. Sighing heavily, the woman began to talk.

*~*

Starbuck couldn't believe how haggard Apollo had become in the short time since they'd been separated. Smoke clung to his clothes and skin, small pieces of shrapnel were caught in his dark hair and already there were shadows under his green eyes. He looked pale and drained, almost as if something inside him had already given up hope. 

He looked exactly as he had on the trip back from Kobol.

Apollo's movements were almost mechanical as he helped Starbuck prepare the shuttle for launch. He could tell his friend was worrying about him but he just didn't think he had the strength to get into a discussion with him. Starbuck seemed to sense that and said nothing, his attention returning to the controls in front of him. 

He was able to wait, perhaps half a centon, before he knew he had to say *something*. He couldn't stand seeing Apollo like this. Reaching a hand out to clap his friend's arm reassuringly, Starbuck cleared his throat.

"Apollo. . . she's going to be alright. . . I mean. . ." he trailed off, unable to continue when his friend fixed emotionless green eyes on him.

"She's going to die, Starbuck," he said flatly, shunning his friend's hand. "And it's my fault. All this is my fault."

Immediately Starbuck got angry, his shock at Apollo's words and the finality in the Captain's voice showing clearly on his face. "*How the frack is this your fault?*" he demanded. "Listen, Apollo, Sheba needs you to be strong for her, when she wakes up-"

"She's not going to," he replied, his head lowered. 

"*Why are you talking like this?*" Starbuck shouted. "If you give up, what do you think Sheba's going to do?

For a few moments, the Captain was silent, his face reflecting the dark thoughts that were undoubtedly running through his mind. He appeared not to have heard Starbuck's last comment, as, his voice nearly breaking, he whispered, "She said thank you." 

"What?" Starbuck didn't understand.

"She said thank you," he repeated, looking up. "For rescuing her." He paused, shaking his head as tears welled in his eyes. "She knew she wouldn't have a chance later."

"That's ridiculous," Starbuck said incredulously, the anger returning to his voice. "Despite what you might think, Sheba's not going to go without one Hades of a fight, and you're not helping her one little bit with this kind of-"

"I failed her, just like I did Serina-"

"Sheba isn't Serina," Starbuck cut him off sharply.

Somehow, those words seemed to hit home; Apollo was silent. 

Wasn't that what he'd been telling himself since he'd met Sheba? She wasn't Serina? Now the words spoken by Starbuck took on different meaning. Apollo loved Sheba for who she was; loyal, kind and generous. Caring, courageous, and strong. They could fight each other until the end of time and that would never change. Serina was only a memory now; you couldn't live for a ghost. Especially when there was someone as special as Sheba waiting for you. He had already hurt her with his anger, betrayed her with his doubt and his despair. Never again. She needed him now and he would be there.

Relieved, Starbuck could see something- everything- resolve itself in his friend's mind and his quiet strength, the strength that had first attracted Sheba to him, reassert itself along with the belief that Sheba would fight long and hard before she would let go. Apollo's eyes sparked with life and his anger with himself as he took over the controls of the shuttle with a ferocity that surprised Starbuck.

"Let's get out of here," Apollo said, determined.

Wiping the beads of sweat away from his forehead, Starbuck couldn't agree more as he realised that their time had just abruptly ran out. The rising heat in the cockpit was getting to be unbearable, the two warriors managed to take off and head as quickly as possible towards the coldness of space.

There was no time for delicate flying through the launch bay doors, as the fires closed fast on their tail. As quickly as they could, Apollo and Starbuck hurtled the shuttle through the blaze and out into the heavens.

*~*

Adama's viper streaked by the barge, its pilot doing his best to see from the outside the extent of the damage done to the ship. The entire left side was in flames and the right side was not far from it. A small group of escape vessels had launched from the underside of the ship and were heading, it looked, towards the Adena. 

Sweeping lower in the direction of the landing bay, the Commander strained to see a shuttle emerging from the blaze, rising from the ashes like a phoenix, just as the prison barge exploded.


	7. Conseuqence Of Alliance Chapter 7

Consequence Of Alliance  
-Chapter 7-

Tinia sat back in her seat, her eyes trained on the other members of the Council of Twelve as they took in the end of her story. She had done her best, used all her skills as a politician to make them sympathetic towards Adama but the victorious look in Antipas' eyes told her all she needed to know.  
  
She was failing.  
  
It had been over a centar since the Commander's viper had left for the prison barge and since then, Tinia had heard nothing. Outside Adama's quarters, Tigh had promised to let her know the centon there was any news but with all the uproar concerning the Commander's decision, Tinia doubted very much that he'd be willing to give her it during the meeting. The meeting that, she was certain, was going to last a substantial amount of time.  
  
She watched Councillor Anton, looking for some sign that he was still in support of Adama and prayed to the Lords of Kobol that Antipas wouldn't- couldn't- be successful in his plan, whatever that truly was. As the new "President" of their quorum, he had already won the first battle. Tinia vowed that he wasn't going to win the second one.  
  
The murmurs of the group finally died down to a rather subdued silence, as the other Council members regarded her dubiously. She could see a varying range of emotions in each person's eyes. Emotions that ranged drastically from anger. . . to worry. . . confusion. . . and then finally triumph, as her eyes came to rest on Antipas.  
  
When she was only a young girl, Tinia's father had, on more than one occasion, brought her along to the Council meetings he, himself, had presided over. She remembered vividly the first day she had hidden in the far reaches of the chamber, watching and listening to her father fight for what he believed to be the common good. It was from there that her passion for politics began.  
  
When her father had died, a tragedy she had always blamed on the military personnel meant to protect him, she had become disillusioned. Alone, for the first time in her life, and angry with everyone for the death of her father, it had been many yahrens before she had become part of the political movement of the twelve worlds.  
  
As a rule, she disliked the military and their need to fight. She understood all too well that they had no choice, that was more than obvious, but it was the ones that seemed to live for war, the ones born to fight, that she just couldn't accept, and, for a time, that was what she believed all warriors were like.  
  
But Adama was different, and the people under him, that was all they were too, underneath it all. People who hurt and felt and wanted more than anything not to have to fight the Cylons to survive. That was the issue here; how to make them all see that following Antipas was wrong. The military controlled because they had to, not because they wanted to. They weren't in it for power or glory but for the survival of the human race, something that the rest of the Council just could not understand.  
  
Her father had always taught her to fight until the end, but he had also taught her how to recognise a losing battle. If her next words couldn't  
shift the balance away from the young Sire, she didn't see what else possibly could. Rising from her seat one last time, Tinia faced her opposers and took a deep breath.  
  
"Only yesterday," she began, before Antipas could speak, "we were a civilised quorum of the people. A council who knew how to conduct  
investigations in an orderly and *fair* manner, according to what was best for those that would put their trust in us." Her eyes met Antipas' and held. "Now, less than twenty four centars later, it would seem that we are more interested in ourselves, and how best to serve our own wishes than those of anyone else.  
  
"It *must* end here," she stressed finally. "It is time for common sense to reign again, and I, for one, will tolerate nothing less." She paused. "Yes, Adama should have discussed Baltar with us, I admit that. And, perhaps, he should have discussed the situation of Lieutenant Sheba with us as well. However, he did not. What he *did* do was to act in the best interests of the people around him, something that we, as the Council of Twelve, ought to be doing too.  
  
"Do not persecute this man because of his love for his family or of that he holds for others. It is not a weakness, and if you consider it such I would wish that more would have it. He is human, and humans make mistakes. *No one,*" she emphasised, "has the type of responsibility that Adama has resting upon his shoulders. I suggest you think of that before you condemn him."  
  
Leaving that thought hanging in the air, Tinia sank back, exhausted, into her chair.  
  
For an endless moment, all were silent, until Sire Domra finally rose from his seat. His face lined with uncertainty, his eyes clouded with worry, he regarded the other Council members.  
  
"It would seem to me," he began gently, "that Adama's ability to lead us is coming into question. Much as I dislike it, the fact is that Adama's family *must* come second to the needs of the Fleet. Until now, that has always been the case, if it no longer is. . ." He trailed off, silent for a micron as he let that sink in.  
  
"By your own admission, Tinia, what he has done is wrong. And while I'm sure there must be more to his agreeing to. . . give himself to Baltar, the fact remains that he has." He paused, looking to Antipas for support. "However this situation is going to end, I, personally, don't see any choice but to revoke the order of martial law and retain from Adama command of the Fleet. Only then, can we make certain that something like this will not happen again."  
  
Stunned at this unexpected turn of events that she, in effect, had orchestrated, Tinia watched as each of the others in turn slowly nodded their agreement.  
  
*~*  
  
There had not been many times in his life when Adama had felt completely helpless. In fact, the Destruction and the deaths of Zac and Serina were the only ones he could easily name.  
  
Growing up a witness to the War and taking his place as leader to the Fleet, the Commander's faith had been tested many times. Yet, each time he, and the people around him, had been strong enough to pick up the pieces after every tragedy.  
  
This time he could not be so hopeful.  
  
Whatever had transpired on the prison barge in the last thirty centons, he knew it was far from over. And if Sheba died, Adama could be sure there was no way his son would survive it.  
  
Not for the first time did Apollo's father think that the warriors he commanded already knew far too much loss in their young lives. In finding Earth, he had hoped to bring an end to the pain his children suffered.  
  
He knew that now to be only a wishful dream.  
  
As long as there was love, there would always be suffering; there was no way to guard against it. Still to be seen, however, was how much the two went together at the end of this day.  
  
His eyes trained on the incoming shuttle, the Commander couldn't help but wonder if it was already too late as he began trying to establish radio contact.  
  
*~*  
  
The pain in Apollo's shoulder had been getting progressively worse with each passing centon. Serpents tongues of fire seemed to run down the nerves of his arm, beads of sweat forming on his brow, yet still he held fast to the controls of the shuttle.  
  
The pain was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.  
  
In his deepest nightmares, Apollo had seen all this before, and the fear that followed it was no stranger. The image of Sheba, as he had seen her last, would be forever burned into his soul, and that hurt far more than a laser wound ever could.  
  
Guilt was a powerful emotion, a driving force as intense as love or hate, and able to destroy just as easily. For Apollo, it was a constant shadow, always waiting for him there, in the darkness, when he slept. . . when he dreamed. . . and when something made him *feel*.  
  
Like Sheba did.  
  
Starbuck understood that, and had said nothing since his friend's resolve to escape the prison barge. As far as Apollo was concerned, everything that happened here today was his fault and nothing he could say would convince his friend otherwise.  
  
There was only one person that could do that.  
  
Glancing at Apollo from the corner of his eye, Starbuck noted with growing concern that his friend's condition seemed to have worsened even in the last few microns. The Captain's skin had taken on a deathly white tone and his breathing seemed to be getting more and more laboured as time went on. He had known there was no way Apollo would let his wound be treated while Sheba's life was still on the line, but now, if it wasn't. . .  
  
"Cassi?" Starbuck called anxiously over his shoulder.  
  
Looking back to Apollo as the blond medtech made her way to the cockpit, he saw his friend slump over the controls, a gasp of pain escaping his lips as he finally surrendered to the fire coursing through his body.  
  
"Cassi!" he called again, more frantically.  
  
"I'm here, Starbuck," she replied, coming up behind him. "What-"  
  
Cassiopeia stopped short as she saw Apollo. He looked. . .  
  
Moving quickly forward, she pulled the Captain back in his seat and slipped the flight jacket from around his shoulders to reveal a blackened, smouldering laser burn on his right shoulder. His eyes slipped open.  
  
"Sheba?" he whispered.  
  
"She's fine for now, Apollo," Cassi replied softly, "but I need to see to you."  
  
Unable to protest, the Captain allowed himself to be supported by both Starbuck and Cassiopeia as he struggled to rise from his seat. Putting his good arm around her shoulder, Apollo let the medtech lead him towards the rear of the shuttle as Starbuck sat back down in the pilot's chair, intent on getting them home as soon as possible.  
  
If he didn't, who knew how much could be lost?  
  
The beep of the comm unit roused him from his darkening thoughts. Reaching over to activate it, Starbuck sighed sadly as he spotted the Commander's lone viper flying through the stars towards them. How did he tell Adama he had to worry about another one of his children?  
  
The Commander's face appeared instantly on the screen, the lines of age etched in even deeper around his dark brown eyes as he asked, "Starbuck?"  
  
Starbuck looked down, unsure of what to say. He struggled for what seemed endless microns before replying, "I think we have to hurry, Commander."  
  
*~*  
  
As Cassiopeia tended to Apollo's wound, her gaze couldn't help but wander to the prone form of Sheba, lying unconscious on one of the long chairs lining the opposite wall of the shuttle. Having only been a medtech for the better part of a yahren, she had neither the expertise nor the experience to gauge just how serious her friend's injuries were. What she did know was that they were running out of time. . . and there was nothing more she could do to help.  
  
Her friend had not woken again since Apollo had left her in Cassi's care and although Cassi herself held great hopes for Sheba's recovery, she had absolutely no way of knowing whether or not those beliefs would turn out to be well founded. For the moment, she was stable, her burns already treated and the blood wiped from her face. She could have been sleeping, merely resting her eyes after another tiring mission. . . only Cassiopeia knew better.  
  
As did Apollo.  
  
From where she knelt beside him, gently cleaning his wound, Cassi could see his eyes never once moved from the delicate features of Sheba's face, almost as if he was scared to lose sight of her in case she somehow slipped away the moment he looked elsewhere. She could almost feel him willing her to wake up, and with all her heart she wished she had the power to grant him that one small glimmer of hope.  
  
But she didn't, and, she told herself, she was the only one to blame.  
  
More times than Cassiopeia could remember, Dr. Salik had offered her the training she needed to elevate from her position as a medtech, and more times than she could remember, she had turned him down, believing that she was not yet ready to face that challenge.  
  
Now she cursed herself for her stupidity.  
  
Seeing just how much Apollo was hurting called out to every instinct in her to help, only there was nothing she could do. . . was there?  
  
She understood what hurt him and why it hurt him, but she also understood that when it came to Sheba, he was especially afraid of admitting his feelings because of her status as a warrior. As a pilot she was one of the best, but even the best pilots could make mistakes. A mission to a planet could easily end in tragedy should an unknown assailant like the Cylon on Kobol decide to make sudden use of an energy weapon. All too soon, Sheba could become nothing more than a memory, and if Apollo had to go through that again, it would undoubtedly destroy him.  
  
Even so, Cassi had to admit, something had changed since their escape from the prison barge. Leaving the Galactica, she had sensed in Apollo a multitude of conflicting emotions, the predominant one being fear. Only, it wasn't just a fear of losing Sheba, of losing another woman he loved. It was the fear of failing, the fear of being depended on and then letting that person down.  
  
For the first time that Cassiopeia could remember in the two yahrens she had known Apollo, he had been afraid to go on a mission.  
  
And that was the turning point.  
  
Now, as she finished bandaging the Captain's shoulder, Cassi realised that for Apollo to come to any kind of peace she had to give him the time he needed alone with Sheba, or watch as he retreated back into his shell. And she wasn't about to let him do that.  
  
Rising from her kneeling position on the floor of the shuttle she sealed the lid of her medkit and watched as Apollo straightened, his gaze still never leaving Sheba. An almost inaudible "thank you" passed his lips, but not once did he look Cassiopeia in the eyes.  
  
Taking the only opportunity she was likely to get before the shuttle landed on the Galactica, Cassi moved to sit beside the Captain, her hand reaching out to rest gently on his arm. Finally, he looked up, taking in the serious expression on her face as a confused one came over his own.  
  
"Cassi, what. . .?" Apollo's voice trailed off as he stole another glance in Sheba's direction.  
  
"Apollo," Cassiopeia's tone was serious, "listen, I. . ." She paused, unsure of how to continue. "I know that you've been. . . avoiding Sheba the past few days, and. . . I know what you talked about in the raider. I'm not making any judgements," she added quickly, seeing the familiar guarded expression shadow Apollo's face. "I just want to make sure that. . . when she wakes up. . ."  
  
"Don't you mean, 'if she wakes up'?" Apollo asked quietly, as he finally turned to face her.  
  
"No, Apollo," she replied solemnly, "I said 'when'."  
  
The Captain allowed himself a small smile before he looked down, tears filling his eyes. "You don't have to worry, Cassiopeia," he whispered, as she rose from her seat, "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
Cassi smiled as she moved off towards the shuttle's cockpit, giving Apollo the privacy he needed. Before she passed through the doorway she turned, watching as he slowly made his way over to where Sheba was lying.  
  
"Apollo?" He looked towards her. "You have to confront your own demons," she said quietly. "No one can do it for you."  
  
He nodded, a look of understanding passing over his features. "I know," he said. "I know."  
  
*~*  
  
A few hectares from the fleet, Boomer scanned ahead for the Galactica as he returned from a deep patrol. It had been a long few centars and the dark Lieutenant was looking forward to getting home. Muscles he didn't even know he had were aching and he longed for the soothing heat of the turbowash.  
  
Absently, his hand rose to his neck, a long sigh escaping his lips as he tried to ease the tension there. He hoped that, by now, the tension he'd left brewing on the battlestar had eased somewhat as well, but knowing his friends as well as he did, he had to admit it was unlikely.  
  
In Apollo and Sheba both, he had noticed a definite change since the destruction of the Cylon base star. They were distracted, on edge and completely miserable. Avoiding each other. He had his own suspicions as to why, but other than asking his wingmate if she was all right, he had not voiced his concerns to anyone other than himself.  
  
An urgent beeping broke Boomer out of his thoughts. Frowning, he leaned forward, taking in the data now flashing on his screen. The scans were complete, only. . . there was no sign of the Galactica.  
  
"What the frack. . ?" he whispered.  
  
He checked the rendezvous co-ordinates that had been programmed into his viper before he left, then the ones on his screen. As he'd thought- they matched.  
  
Worried now, Boomer hit his comm. "Bojay?" he asked.  
  
It took a moment before the Pegasus Captain responded. When he did, his voice was low and rough from having been woken up.  
  
"Yeah, Boomer. What's up?" As he spoke, Bojay stretched, as far as he could in the cramped conditions of his viper, trying to ease his stiff joints.  
  
"The Galactica," Boomer replied. "We're at the rendezvous. . . but she's nowhere in sight."  
  
"Are you sure?" Bojay asked, the concern evident in his voice.  
  
"Well, take a look for yourself." From inside his viper, Boomer gestured with a wave of his hand to the expanse of space that lay ahead of him. "If she's out there, I can't find her. And neither can my scanners," he added.  
  
Bojay frowned and shook his head as he ran a confirmation scan. "I can't get her either." He adjusted his scanner. "I am reading a lot of interference, though."  
  
"What kind?"  
  
"I'm not sure. . ." Bojay paused as he rechecked his instruments. "Looks like it could've been caused by-" He stopped, realising what he was about to say.  
  
"An explosion?" Boomer asked quietly.  
  
Bojay stayed silent.  
  
"Bojay?"  
  
"Yeah," the Captain sighed. "A pretty big one, too."  
  
"Big enough to be the Galactica?"  
  
Bojay didn't have to answer.  
  
A centon passed in an uncertain silence. Finally, Boomer couldn't take any more.  
  
"Well," he sighed, "I guess there's only one way to find out." Switching from unicom to standard, Boomer's eyes swept over the starfield as he began to speak, praying to a God he no longer believed in to deliver both himself and Bojay to the only home they had left.  
  
*~*  
  
For yet another endless centon, Athena's dark blue eyes stayed fixed upon the scanner readout of her console. In her head, she counted the microns, one by one as they flashed up on the screen and froze, leaving her to wait what seemed forever for the next one to come around.  
  
There had been no word from Apollo's shuttle since the destruction of the prison barge and with her Father failing to report in as well, Athena couldn't help but wonder if the intereference from the explosion was the only reason she wasn't picking them up on her scanners.  
  
Truly, she didn't know what she would do if she lost the rest of her family. The thought was just too painful to let herself think. . .  
  
A crackling of static burst through her earpiece, startling Athena out of her vigil. Her hopes soared as the garbled message came through.  
  
". . .actica. . .is Rec. . .obe Two. . .do you. . ? Repeat, this is. . .con. . .Two. . .come in. . .lactica."  
  
Her shoulders slumped; it wasn't Apollo's voice. Or Starbuck's, or her Father's.  
  
". . .Galactica. . ." The message came through again, clearer this time. ". . .is Recon Probe Two. . . you read me?"  
  
The voice was more persistent, and as she recognised the apprehension laced through it, she also recognised the speaker. For the first time in days she allowed herself a small smile.  
  
Boomer.  
  
Calling to Colonel Tigh, Athena's fingers moved deftly over her console, pulling up telemetry and establishing a communications link with Boomer's viper. At last, things were looking up.  
  
*~*  
  
Nothing.  
  
Boomer's hand clenched into a fist and uncharacteristically struck the inside of his viper as his frustration overflowed. He saw Bojay looking over at him from his own viper and shook his head negative. Nothing. Not a damned thing. He was about to try again when a burst of static came over his comm system.  
  
"Recon. . .obe Two, this is. . .actica. . .read you. Repeat, we read you."  
  
Athena's voice was the sweetest sound Boomer had ever heard. A grin lit up his face as he signalled again to Bojay, this time a single sweeping gesture of success. They were going home.  
  
"This is Recon Probe Two, Galactica," Boomer responded, unable to keep the joy he felt from his voice. "Athena, are you alright? We made the rendezvous but-"  
  
Colonel Tigh cut him off, having reached Athena's console. "I'm sorry, Boomer." The Lieutenant could hear the strain in the executive officer's voice. "We had to stop the fleet after the prison barge exploded."  
  
"The prison barge?" Boomer asked, feeling his earlier apprehension return. He caught Bojay out of the corner of his eye, similarly shocked by the news he was now listening in to.  
  
"But. . ." Boomer stopped as he came to an awful realisation. "Oh Lord, Sheba?" he asked, recalling the exact reason why Bojay had been flying with him for the past few centars and not his usual wingmate. "What-"  
  
"We don't know, Boomer." Athena's voice again. "Apollo and Starbuck took a shuttle over after Baltar. . . and the Commander. . . well. . . it's a long story." She paused, trying to keep all she was feeling from coming through in her voice. "But with all the interference from the explosion. . ."  
  
"The Galactica's scanners can't pick them up," Bojay said quietly, understanding.  
  
"If they're even out there at all. . ."  
  
The sadness in Athena's voice was only just masked by the professional tone she maintained on duty but to Boomer it screamed out as loud as a battle klaxon. She was scared, hurting, and while he wanted nothing more than to take the time to reassure her, every micron counted if they were to get their friends home safely. The friends he knew were still alive.  
  
"They have to be, Athena," Bojay said. "I'm sure-"  
  
"They are," Boomer said firmly, renewed certainty filling his voice as he cut the Pegasus Captain off. "And what's more," he continued, "we're going to find them."

*~*

To be continued. . . 


End file.
